


Scream It From The Top of Your Lungs

by TamzStripped



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Brain Damage, Cheating, Derek is lead singer for struggling Were! At the Disco, Drinking, Drug Addiction, Flashbacks, M/M, Memory Loss, Primary Form of Communication: Song, Secondary Form of Communication: Kisses, Secret Relationship, Smoking, Smut, Stiles is lead singer for Fallout Shelter, Suicide Attempt, ignoring a problem until it goes away is a terrible idea, mentions of depression, mentions of drug abuse, performances are detailed when written
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 287,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1354204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TamzStripped/pseuds/TamzStripped
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a moment of crunching metal on metal, Derek went right back to how he was the day he met Stiles.</p><p>Before their relationship.<br/>Before Stiles listened to him rant about Kate.<br/>Before Stiles offered a safe place to relax while they were on the road.<br/>Before Stiles encouraged him to think about what he wanted in his future, and supported his dreams no matter how simple or lavish.<br/>Before Stiles showed him how special he was mentally, physically, and emotionally.<br/>Before Stiles showed him what it was like to be loved.</p><p>Derek went back to feeling like a failure, like he couldn’t make anyone happy unless he gave up his own comfort and catered to those around him.<br/>Derek went back to not caring what tomorrow brought, he just wanted everyone to be okay, convinced he only needed those around him to be happy, for him to be happy.<br/>Derek went back to trying to understand why he couldn’t make Kate happy.<br/>Derek went back to feeling like he wasn’t loved.</p><p>Stiles knows that Derek essentially started on a new path after the accident, and in turn began a new life.</p><p>Without Stiles.</p><p>But...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ACT 1: I Wanna See The Dirt Under Your Skin

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of the characters, unfortunately, and the music belongs to Fall Out Boy and Panic! at the Disco.  
> This fic is extremely long because I can't leave well enough alone.  
> This could have been multiple parts in a series, so I've tried to break it down into Act's? Point is, there are multiple climaxes, so imagine it like a series.  
> Will be from Both Stiles and Derek's point of view.  
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

The wall across the room was essentially one giant window overlooking the city and if you stared long enough you could almost convince yourself you were floating above it, weightless and free.

Derek was almost there, troubles slowly slipping away, when the unfortunately familiar blonde female sauntered through the door chuckling into her phone. He had been waiting in her office for nearly 40 minutes. Derek was not in the least bit surprised.

"I said I'd be there, sweetheart. Now I have a client, see you later." She ended affectionately hanging up her phone then turning to Derek with a seductive gleam in her eyes. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." She grinned knowingly.

Derek couldn't believe he was sinking this low, attempting to make a deal with the same person who royally fucked up his life, but he had been through all other channels and still hadn't been signed. He decided if this was his only shot he would take it. If not for any other reason than; this bitch owed him.

He supplied a sarcastic smile waiting for her to get on with it considering she had been the one to contact him in the first place, repeatedly, until he finally agreed to meet with her.

"How are things, Der?" She asked looking through her lashes.

Derek didn't respond just stared blankly back at her.

"Alright fine. Straight to business then."

She opened a file and Derek sunk more into his chair spreading his knees wide getting comfortable, and trying to make it appear that her presence didn't set every one of his nerves on edge. This is for the band, he reminded himself.

"Well management thinks you are a risk but I managed to cut a few strings for you."

If that didn't show you what kind of person she was, Derek didn't know what would. Most people pull strings, they don’t cut them.

She waited for a response. Then rolled her eyes "Derek, in order for anything to get signed I need you to acknowledge what I say to you."

"Fine." was all he said locking his jaw. This was the same woman who had-

"Fine Derek, two can play this game. Management labeled you a high risk. Therefore, here is what I have managed to pull for you. 1. We will provide the studio for you to record. 2. You do all your own work, songs editing, etcetera.  And 3. Don't fuck anything up." She pulled out some papers acting like she had just offered him gold.

"Why would I sign anything for that? I already do all of that on my own." He said contorting his face. _Was she serious?_

"I haven’t finished. If you manage to gather a following and gross at least $100,000 in sales, not including costs to get you out there in the next year, you are guaranteed to be signed with us long term with a much better contract.  Sounds easy...but I mean food, hotel, venues, merch production, travel- All of if will come out of your sales. If at the end of the year you have at least 100 grand left you will be signed.  I know this offer is a lot different than what you usually hear but like I said. High risk." She sat back and waited for Derek to respond.

This was the dumbest, most unprofessional contract he had ever heard of. It was Kate though, so not much of a surprise there.

Derek thought long and hard... the odds were not in his favor. They could make money off of him and use his profit to pay entirely too much for things the band didn't need and then have him owe them money in the end, and that was just one of the many things to think about.

"No thanks." He sat up to leave. This was a dumb contract. He couldn't stand her. He was only doing this for the band. Why would he willingly walk into a dead end trap set by none other than Kate Argent?

"Ohh Der...did I hurt your feelings? Just use your words and maybe we could work a few things out." She cooed from behind her desk.

He sat back into the chair reluctantly. If he was going to sign anything with her he needed to negotiate, and going home empty handed would only earn him puppy faces all around. He had to try.

He thought quickly picking out the most important points. "Fine. I want to hire my own finance manager so we can have control of what we buy, sell, and earn. So that we can do the best we can to come out with more than a measly 100 grand in the end. I want in writing that we have full creative rights-"

"Done."

Derek stared at her wide eyed as she pulled out another contract, like she had expected him to negotiate. He wasn't done though.

"Of course, your manager would have to be approved by the company and they would have to get any funds they want us to put up approved through us as well...I was already prepared for this so here is another contract, and I have one more thing thrown in just for you." She winked. "And we never do this for anyone. Here is a list of artists we represent." She tapped a page sliding it across the desk. "Pick one and you will be their opening act this year and tour with them for publicity. Choose wisely." Again she looked like she had handed him gold. 

Derek was stunned this was not how things worked. Like at all. "I'll need to read over the contract with my lawyer and my agent." He said nonchalantly. Trying to maintain his persona of ' _your face isn't something I want to punch every time I see it'_.

"Of course." She sat back crossing her arms "We need an answer by Friday, Derek. Some of the other artists are already looking for opening acts, you wouldn't want to miss this opportunity. Now get out of my office." She waived a hand in dismissal, turning to the computer like he was already gone.

* * *

 

"I thought you said this was our big break." Jackson was, predictably, the least enthusiastic about the offer.

"I never said that." Derek groaned taking another swig from his beer. "I said it was an in. One of the Argent's owe me-"

"The one you slept with?" Jackson smirked.

Derek powered through like nothing was said, he should have never told the band about her. _Never_.

"-So she is pulling a few strings for us. Its not the best, believe me, I know, but a year opening for an established band could finally get us out there." Derek laid back, griping his beer. "Isn't that what we all want?" He needed reassurance, he wasn't about to put himself through a life time of misery without reason. He has never desired fame. More like a small cabin in the woods, away from civilization, where he could just breathe. 

Erica started laughing.

Jackson looked like someone had just kicked his Porsche...that he had lost by the way, after his long fall from grace. "Fuck off, Erica." Jackson spat with venom. This was a common thing. Erica poking at Jackson's ego and him spitting on her with distaste.

Erica sauntered over "Did you think someone was just going to say 'here's 100 mil, congrats you're famous!!!"

Jackson glared.

"Even though you have no fans, you suck, and your keyboardist is lame."

Jackson lunged, _predictably_.

Derek intercepted throwing Jackson back down, like he always did. "Both of you cut it out. Peter is already reviewing the contract. We will hear from him tomorrow. Now assuming it is passable" he cringed, there was no telling what Kate tried to sneak in there. "...we need to pick a band." He pointed to the forgotten list on the table of their trailer, falling back onto the stiff couch. The things he was willing to go through for these misfits.

"Easy! Lady Gaga!" Erica stated like it was obvious.

"Ew, no. Mumford and Sons or Imagine Dragons. They already have a huge following." Jackson argued. They were already setting up for their next round of 'Who's Alpha'.

"You both are idiots." Boyd interrupted. "We are not like any of them...wrong fan base. It would just be more fans spreading the word about us sucking, we need someone like us but slightly different so we appeal to their fans, but stand apart."  He finished already going back to reading.

"Valid point." Derek added to two disappointed faces.

They bickered for the next 20 minutes and Derek googled the other names looking for a fitting band to open for. The big thing now was folk bands which they certainly were not. He was about to give up when he saw an indention at the bottom of the page, like something had been erased. He angled it and was able to make out _falput shdter_. Which made no sense. Google, luckily, is a smart fucker and suggested Fallout Shelter. Derek clicked the first result.

He read about the origins, skimming, just looking for their genre. _Hardcore Punk. Pop Punk. Pop Rock. Emo Punk._ This could work.

While the others argued he by some miracle of God himself, found tickets for Fallout Shelter's show the next night. 

He bought 4.

 

* * *

 

"Jesus. I already need a tetanus shot. Look at this crowd." Jackson mouthed like he had just taken a bite of something foul.

"Can you just pretend for one second you're not a pretentious waste of space." Boyd shoved past, pushing his way deeper into the crowd, heading for the pit.

Erica smirked and followed suit.

When Jackson turned to Derek to continue complaining, Derek was already making his way to find a drink. Concerts are just not right without a little alcohol in the blood stream.

The show was about to start when he got a call from Peter.  He shoved his way back out into the over sized hall, if you could even call it that. "Whats the verdict?"

"Well it's simple. Everything she said is here but there are a few parts we should discuss. In person." Peter said solemnly.

"Later. I'm at a show. A potential artist." Derek clipped not wanting to miss the first song. He still hadn't located a drink yet.

"Really, who?"

"Fallout Shelter..." Derek prayed for minimal snark, and luckily only got a thoughtful _hmmm_.. "I'm missing the first song. Gotta go"

"Let me know if he's the one." Peter said before ending the call.

Derek hung up and pulled the door open.

 

* * *

 

When he walks back in, the crowd is jumping and it's a bumpy walk through them all to find his band, which are no where to be seen. He can't make out the words but a curly blond on stage is contorting his body awkwardly like he is fucking demented.

" _[She's his suicide blond, she's number than gold](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WIPTUSr1tPA)._ "

 _What? What does that even mean?_   Before Derek could try to decode what the fuck that meant the lead singer launches himself on stage, literally out of nowhere, clothes catching air and flapping. He's wearing a logo shirt, and a red plaid button up rolled up to his elbows, and his jeans are low but not necessarily tight.

" _Are you ready for another bad poem?_ " Instantly the crowd screams and the guy smiles widely in response. " _One more off key anthem. Let your teeth sink in. Remember me as I was not as I am._ " He locks his microphone into place on its stand, spreading his arms to the audience in a long distance hug.

Derek's instantly mesmerized. He feels like he knows the kid. Might have seen him in the tabloids or something. They were a pretty big deal.

" _And I said 'I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead,_ " he makes a cut throat motion with his thumb, and quickly grabs his mic. He runs over to drag his fingers through the keyboard players hair.

She rolls her eyes, smiling, shaking her head.

" _I kept wishing she had blonde ambition and she'd let it go to my head._ "

The blonde kicked at his knees and he fell back laughing while the crowd roared. " _Rat a tat tat, Rat a tat tat tat hey"_

He's at the edge of the stage within seconds. Derek swears he might fall. _"If my love is a weapon. There's no second guessing when I say!"_  He holds the mic out for more _'Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey'_ then he follows with his face almost splitting in two _"If my heart is a grenade. You pull the pin and say: We're all fighting growing old"_   the crowd echos. _"In the hopes"_ he curls back neck straining _"Of a few minutes more To ge-et on St. Peter's list, But you need-"_ he punctuates with a long finger _"-to lower your standards. Cause it's never getting any better than this."_

He motions toward the awkward blonde guitarist who follows with another creepy solo.

 _"We are professional ashes of roses. This kerosene's live. You settled your score. This is where you come to beg, unborn and unshaven"_ more awkward twists of his body.

Derek likes it, they all fit together, the band as a whole. This is when Derek takes in the whole band.

Pretty girl on piano, short skirt, hipster blouse falling down at the shoulders, and bright red lipstick. Edgy guy on guitar, who looks soft, but is very awkward in his movements, and is lost in the music. Spastic singer who demands the audience, and utilizes the full stage and band.

Derek's eyes land on the singer again and he finally notices the drummer. He's in a loose cut off tank top, tan, with black hair sticking straight up because the singer...the singer is standing behind him pulling his hair up laughing like it is the funniest thing he has ever done.

Derek fights a smile.

The crowd clearly knows the song. Shouting _rat a tat_ to the beat of the singers other fist in the air.

The singer runs to the front of the stage picking up where he left off. _"I'm about to make the sweat roll backwards and your heart beat in reverse"_

Damn right, Derek believes it. _"_

 _Our guts can't be reworked. As alone as a little white church In the middle of the desert getting burned."_   He runs a hand up his neck closing his eyes. _"But I'll take your heart served up two ways. I sing a bitter song. I'm the lonelier version of you-"_  the mic is back in place and he points at the audience, keeping them close to his face, hovering over the mic, and looking up through his lashes. _"I just don't know where it went wrong."_

He leaves the mic, fist pumping while the audience scream _"rat a tat tat. Rat a tat tat tat hey"_ he shouts encouragements grabbing the stand holding it out across the first 2 rows. _"If my love is a weapon, There's no second guessing when I say: Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey. If my heart is a grenade, You pull the pin and say:"_   The guy is blushing. But he grabs the mic holding it loosely, clinging to hands in the audience singing lazily. Focusing only on his fans for the moment.

This is when Derek hears Boyd behind him. "This is the band." Boyd isn't a man of many words. When he says something they all listen. Derek nods not trying to hide his smile, still mesmerized by how the guy commands the stage. There are more _'Rat a tats'_ and that is when Erica runs up grabbing Derek by the arm, singing and jumping. He wraps an arm around her pulling her against his side. The blonde picks up again.

_"She's sick and she's wrong. She's young, dirty blonde."_

This is when Jackson joins with his hands shoved in his jacket pockets.

Boyd shouts "So? We all agree?"

Jackson nods, cracking a grin when Boyd pulls him in to their little huddle.

 _"Go boy, go boy, run for your life!"_ The blonde finishes.

The main guy starts waving his arms involving his whole body, and the four of them join him, and the rest of the audience are laughing. _"We're all fighting growing old. We're all fighting growing old. In the hopes, of a few minutes, more."_

Derek really wants a drink but he can't stop watching. _"_

_Cause it's never, Getting any better than this."_

Damn right. More rat a tats follow and Derek is lost wondering if this guy is as sincere as he appears on stage. And most importantly, if he himself will be worthy enough of opening his shows.

After having hopped around the stage the singer finally plops down at the edge of the stage, knees spread wide. _"Are you ready for another bad poem?"_  

The lights go out.

 

* * *

 

They perform a few more songs and Derek cant keep his eyes off of the singer, anymore than he could stop breathing, it was inevitable. He decides he needs to know his name so he pulls out his phone and reopens last nights Wikipedia page. He has to fight to focus on the screen, his eyes constantly darting back to the stage.

His name is Stiles Stilinski... _Stage Name maybe?_ Derek shrugs and reads on. He and his band originated in Beacon Hills a small town in California. Derek realizes that was his home town too, maybe that is why he feels like he has seen him before, Stiles can't be much younger than him. He reads on that his dad is the sheriff of the town. Yep, definitely why he recognizes him.

The drummer seems like the most popular with the ladies. His name is Scott McCall. According to the page he is involved in a lot of animal right movements. A series of pictures show him holding all kinds of animals, fluffy and scaly.

The blonde's name is Lydia Martin, a math major. She has a list of awards and is involved in a lot of debates and organizations.

The weird blonde's name is Isaac Lahey. According to his mini-bio he came from a bad home and is involved in a lot of charity projects for abused and under privileged children.

Before he can read more he is pulled out of his thoughts when the music doesn't start back up.

Stiles takes the mic, sitting on a speaker at the front of the stage, joined by the rest of the band shortly after. The lights come up and the four look around at the audience smiling. Actually looking. Like they see every single person.

"Okay, sorry guys. I need to catch my breath." His voice is a lot squirlier than he imagined. The complete opposite of his singing voice.

Derek smirks covering his mouth hoping Stiles says more, just to confirm that that is actually how he sounds. There is no way that is what his voice sounds like.

Lydia takes the mic Scott hands her before he hands Isaac his and sits down. "Yea, I keep telling him he needs to work out more. Especially since he insists on doing suicides on stage for an hour and a half all night."

Stiles bumps her with a shoulder affectionately and they laugh along with the audience.

"I dunno Lyds. I don't think they mind." He smiles out at the audience. They all scream 'no'. "Good cuz we like talking to you guys."

Derek looks to his band and they are smiling dreamily up at the stage. They want this. He is going to do what ever it takes to make this happen for them. He owes them that much.

Isaac smiles bashfully waving at a few fans keeping his head down mostly, his bright blue eyes shinning past his blonde curls.

Scott looks at the rest conspiratorially. "Do you want to tell them the news? Or should I?" He rests his elbow on Stiles' shoulder and Stiles throws his head into his hands.

"Why do you always do that?" Stiles groans.

"What?" Scott looks around smiling incredulously.

"Ruin the moment. I'm trying to catch a second wind here." He motions with his hand like he can force the air into his lungs, nostrils flaring.

A small, smooth voice picks up. "Do you guys wanna know?" It's Isaac and the crowd falls silent...well as silent as a crowd can be. "There wont be many more shows like this for awhile."

The crowd surges in alarm. Derek wonders for a moment if this is why the name was erased, but how would a band this successful just quit? Especially, one that loves their fans this much.

Lydia coos the audience. "Only for a year guys."

"You guys are terrible!" Stiles shoves the other 3 away grabbing the mic. "We're mostly kidding guys. Scott tell them the truth." He lays his head on Scott's elbow, which is still resting on his shoulder, and grins at the crowd mischievously. 

"Okay. Okay. Okay." Scott clears his throat for the big announcement. "We are going on tour!" The crowd screams. "Come January we start so we only have 2 weeks left and we will be doing a few pop up shows so follow us on Twitter to keep up." The crowd is screaming, some even crying.

Lydia smiles "Here is the good news. We will be giving away tickets left and right. So be ready!"

Stiles rubs his face. "You're already planning the games aren't you?"

"The Shelter games? Seriously?" Isaac asks.

Scott laughs.

"You guys are just jealous I came up with it and you didn't.  You guys ready for the Shelter Games!" She yells throwing a fist in the air.

Crowd screams.

Scott cups his ear. "Oh, you guys can do better than that". They yell louder.

They all start motioning for the crowd to hush and Stiles hops up. "Well you all came to see a show right?" The rest stand up. "Who feels like Dancing?"

Another song picks up. Derek wants to push forward but he doesn't want to catch crap from his band mates for actually caring, because until now he hadn't, but he just needs to get closer. Luckily Erica takes the lead jumping as a song they all remember from years ago starts. She forces their way through the crowd and they are within 50 feet of the stage. Derek can see the moles spotting Stiles face. Erica is still singing and dancing.

Derek tunes back into the lyrics.

 _"[I'm two quarters and a heart down](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVmnkZdbH2U&nohtml5=False). And I don't want to forget how your voice sounds. These words are all I have so I write them. I need them just to get by."_ Stiles screams hand out stretched to the ceiling curling like he can capture something out of his reach. His arm falls, and for a second Derek sees sadness, but he runs up behind Scott cheering as he pounds away at the drums while the audience take over the course.

After hugging Scott around the neck he slinks toward Lydia. _"Why don't you show me a little bit of spine you've been saving for his mattress."_ He reaches her wrapping his arms around her, mouth on her neck. Her head falls to the side eyes closed. _"I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me."_

Derek would be lying if he said that didn't turn him on.

The beat shifts and he makes his way to his fans lazily screaming the chorus, more focused on his fans than the music and Isaac and Scott basically take over the chorus.

Stiles starts jumping all over the stage, eyes closed again with his hand out stretched, screaming the lyrics, and when the song ends he collapses.

The crowd screams so it must be a common thing for him to do. The lights drop on everyone but Lydia and Scott who make their way to the front of the stage. "Thank you guys so so so very much." Lydia coos.

Scott wraps an arm around her blocking Stiles from Derek's view. "Seriously, you make everything we do possible. And we genuinely love every single one of you."

"We are going to take a small break. Get some water-"

"Beer." Scott interrupts.

"Beverages." Lydia amends rolling her eyes. "And you guys should do the same. We will be back in 20." The audience screams and they run back stage waving.

 

* * *

 

 Erica, Boyd, and Jackson say something about finding a drink and Derek waves them off, no longer caring for a drink himself. He needs air. He spots a side door and slams through it.

He walks, lighting up a cigarette, around to the back of the building seeking quiet. What is it? He has never watched a single performer and felt this in his entire life. As far back as he can remember anyway.

Is it because this kid clearly means every thing he says? Doesn't seem to be in it for the fame but for the music, friendship, and love? He only watched him for 30 minutes but that is the general feeling he gets.

Maybe he just knows he will never feel that way. The only reason he keeps this charade going is because without the others he could be living life as a vegetable. They used instruments for therapy to help him relearn his motor functions. So he will keep trying, because he owes them. There is just no way he and his band could ever be half of what Fallout clearly is.

Derek takes a long drag shoving his head into his hand sliding down the wall. He doesn't even know why he keeps trying to get signed. He tells himself it's for the band...but he couldn't care less about the fame. Its strictly for them.

He keeps trying though because they were the ones who helped put him back together after the car accident with Kate. He owed them his life and without him they just weren't a band. They made that very clear. His mind keeps going in circles and he is getting dizzy with it. Luckily something distracts him.

"What the fuck happened out there?!" A weasel voice yelled when a door about 8 feet away crashed open.

"I thought I s-" Stiles stops.

"Thought you saw what? Jesus Christ himself? Please enlighten me!" The man yells back.

"Nothing. I just need a few. I'll be fine. It was just the song." Stiles says lighting up a cigarette of his own.

"Jesus, Bilinski. I'll never understand you and that God forsaken song."

A voice calls from back stage for a Finstock and the man curses, pointing a strong finger at Stile,s who rolls his eyes walking away as the door falls to a close.

Derek wonders if it would be a bad time to say something. He seems to have gone unnoticed so far. He is kind of in a shadow anyway. Derek watches Stiles walk in circles smoking like his life depends on it. Eventually, he notices the smoke coming from Derek's spot on the ground. 

"Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me! Almost gave me heart attack" Stiles clutches his heart. "Good thing you didn't. You might have been burned at the stake by an angry mob." He laughs at his little joke.

"Yea, sorry. Needed some air." He holds up his burning cigarette. 

"Funny." Stiles says taking a drag, narrowing his eyes at Derek's shadow. "You a fan of the band?"

"Not really." Derek smiles, teasing.

"Ouch." Stiles clutches his heart.  They laugh snubbing out their sticks, and are cut short when a gut wrenching scream comes from inside. They both run and luckily no one stops Derek from running in behind Stiles.

They end up in Lydia's dressing room. "Freaking Finstock just spilled tea all over me after he fucked up the honey, squirting it all over my shirt.  Ugh!"

Stiles was grabbing napkins rubbing at it before she even finished her rant.

"Lyds, babe, you are gunna have to change. I can't fix this." Stiles says regretfully, squeezing her shoulder wiping his hand off on his jeans.

"I can. All I need is 5 minutes." Derek says.

They both startle, apparently oblivious to his being there. They all stare at each other awkwardly and Derek almost feels like running. He knows he looks like shit. He hasn't shaved and his shirt is old and ratted, his jeans are stained up from working on the band trailer. "Seriously, I can step outside and run to my truck we have an emergency kit for things like this. I can bring it around, but don't you guys have to be back on in like 7 minutes?" He just needs them to let him leave. _Now_. Now would be good.

Stiles' mouth snaps shut audibly and his face goes completely blank.

Lydia pats Stiles on the shoulder and flips her hair. She rips her shirt off exposing herself around her bra. "Then you better make it quick."

Derek catches the shirt, smiling, turning to run out the door. "I'll be right back. Make sure they let me back in."

When he gets to the truck Erica is already there. "Where did you go? We thought you ditched." Erica wine's.

"No time. Kit?" Derek demands.

She hands it over. "That's her shirt!"

He ignores her making quick work. Thank God for Erica's insomnia and compulsive infomercial purchases. He turns, running back toward the back entrance. The body guard allows him to pass but not Erica and she is visibly pissed off. Derek just shrugs running to Lydia's room who just screams, hugging him hard, like he personally just saved her life.

"You are my hero. Seriously."

 _See_? Derek shrugs blushing, flashing a smile.

"So what can I call my hero?" She asks putting her shirt back on. Adjusting her hair and make up in the mirror.

"Derek. Sorry I scared you guys earlier. He and I were smoking outside and I heard you scream so....I ran behind him. I really thought you guys knew I was here." He walks backwards, propping himself up in the door way.

She putts away her makeup looking down. "No. We certainly had no idea you were here." She stands up flipping around. "So? How do I look?" She strikes a pose.

"Beautiful." Derek smiles. A voice calls from back stage signaling 1 minute. Derek holds out an arm allowing her to head back. She points at a door for him to go through to return to the audience. He's a little disappointed that Stiles wasn't anywhere in sight.

He's got his hand on the door when a hand grabs his shoulder. Its Stiles. If Derek had a tail it would be wagging.

"Hey. So... we kinda owe you. Stick around after the show? Meet us out back?"

Derek nods, forgetting the English language all together.

Before he can ask if the others can come, 20 seconds is yelled and Stiles has to run back.

 

* * *

 

Derek misses the first few songs back because he is nerve smoking and drinking outside. Does he tell them who he is? Does he just have a good night? Is it a good idea? The others are going to be furious when they find out he didn't get them an invite. He fusses over this for awhile then decides he deserves to enjoy the show dammit!

He makes his way back in, finding a spot at the corner of the stage, and an old song is wrapping up. Another one from a few years ago. He locates his band in the crowd still enjoying themselves. He can't really see Stiles' face, only his profile but he doesn't really have a problem with that. He notices the others more now. Visibly focused on Stiles for cues.

Derek smiles.

The music transitions but Stiles puts his hand up. "Stop." Then he surveys the audience. "We were going to save most of the new album for the tour but I really think you guys deserve one right now." The crowd screams. He turns to look at Lydia and catches sight of Derek and they nod at each other.  "Its called [The Mighty Fall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=givzMxGKZps&nohtml5=False)." They hold eye contact for a moment then Stiles turns.

The crowd roars and Stiles angles a mic at Scott clearly demonstrating none of them were prepared for this.

Lydia begins the chords looking at Isaac and he joins in on guitar both of them looking at Stiles.

Derek shakes his head. This little shit apparently does what ever the fuck he wants to, and they have to just keep going like nothing fucking happened.

Scott comes in with a few beats and starts them off. " _Oh God!"_ Hesitation, _"Scott's on."_ Crowd roars and the band finally looks out, accepting the situation. _"Fallout, boy!_ "

Stiles brings his elbows in tight. _"Did-did-did you trip down 12 steps into Malibu, ooh, ooh?"_ punctuating with his other hand not holding the mic. _"So why the hell is there a light that's keeping us forever, uh, uh, uh. Bel Air baby, did you get dressed up? Pretty pout, pout!"_

The others echo, _"While you bottomed out out."_ They all glance back at Stiles. Thier moods completely changed for a second.

 _"I can't stop it when there's chemicals keeping us together. Uh, uh, uh, I'm singing! Whoa, how the mighty fall, The mighty fall,"_ he screams forcing all of the air out of his lungs. _"The mighty fall, They fall in love."_ Stiles is in his own world almost as if the audience isn't even there. _"How the mighty fall, The mighty fall, The mighty fall. Oh, how the mighty fall in love."_

Derek wonders what the song is about. Stiles is clearly passionate about it. Purging all of his pent up feelings on the situation.

 _"Your crooked love is just a pyramid scheme. And I'm dizzy on dreams."_ Stiles falls to his knees griping his forehead. _"But if you ask me two's a whole lot lonelier than one."_   He looks right to left landing on Derek for a brief moment before he has to sing again, eyes drooping as he is pulled back into the song. _"B-baby we should have left our love in the gutter where we found it!"_

The others echo again, _"Gutter where we found it."_

 _"'Cause you think, you think your only crime is that you got caught. I'm singing- Whoa, how the mighty fall, The mighty fall, The mighty fall, They fall in love!"_ He sits on his heels arm stretched out to the side, his neck straining. "How the mighty fall, The mighty fall, The mighty fall! Oh, how the mighty fall in love." He pulls himself up, arms heavy. _"It's getting clear. You're never coming clean. So I'll lock you up inside."_ He pulls at the neck of his shirt _"And swallow, swallow the key!"_

Derek can feel the stress and longing radiating off of Stiles. And he actually really just wants to make him feel better. Which is weird.

Stiles runs behind the drums as Scott stands up running front stage, and takes over. Just one more thing to add to Stiles, fucker can play the drums.

 _"_ _Yeah. Hello? Yeah, I know you said not to call unless I'm dying."_   Scott leans forward grabbing hands, and then his heart. _"Well, I'm driving and I can't stop staring at my eyelids, but even though my eyes closed, I still see you."_ He winks giving a crooked grin. _"I just hope that when you see me I'm not see-through, You know how we do. Some times I swear, I need a day just for me to lay With some T and A"_   Scott's in full rap mode. _"But the way we, the way we do is deeper. Baby straight up chemistry DNA. Make me wanna give you every dollar out my B of A. Like, I let her climb on top. I'm either fuckin' or workin', so the grind don't stop."_ He lifts his shirt, flashing his abs making obscene hip motions earning a few screams from the girls. _"They say I got screws missing, well, hell, only when I'm missing you. And, hell, yeah, I'm a dick, girl, addicted to you!"_ He runs back up playing the drums with Stiles as Stiles works his way off already singing loud enough the mic by the drums is picking him up perfectly.

 _"Whoa, how the mighty fall, The mighty fall, The mighty fall,"_ he starts wandering around the stage legs swinging randomly. _"They fall in love! How the mighty fall, The mighty fall, The mighty fall! Oh how the mighty fall in love."_ He blows a kiss and walks off stage.

The band plays a few chords and Isaac grabs his mic. "Well guys. Did you enjoy yourself?" The crowd screams. "Good. Well that was the end of our show and you got to hear The Mighty Fall before Anyone else!" More screams.

Scott makes his way front. "Something came up so we can't stick around for the meet and greet. But no worries we will be in town another week and we will set up a place for us all to get together so keep an eye out. "

Lydia joins. "Here's the best part." She holds out her phone. "I just posted the 1st round of the Shelter games! Who's ready to win some tickets?"

Screams.

"We all love you, Stiles loves you more than anything, without you... well let's just say it would be _really_ bad. So we would like to thank you on his behalf." Scott says heart felt.

The crowd roars. "We love you Stiles!"

Isaac, Lydia, and Scott hug blowing kisses, about to make their way back stage.

"Whoa whoa whoa." Stiles runs out waiving his hands. "Did I say we were done?" The 3 look at him confused. "The emergency can wait. We have one more song for you guys and I know you all know the song so please help me with the words."

"Wait? Why'd you run away? Did you see a puppy or something?" Scott asks patting Stiles on the shoulder affectionately.

"Easy." Stiles smiles. "I had to pee. Like really bad." He groans rubbing his head. "Whoo! Beer and shows do not mix when you are the one on stage."

The crowd as predicted, laugh and scream. Derek laughs too from his corner of the stage.

Stiles smiles at him. "We still can't do the meet and greet tonight..." the crowd boos. "Hold on, hold up! You didn't boo Lydia when she told you!" He props his hand on his hip looking down at the first few rows like a parent. "I'm the favorite, remember?!"

Lydia laughs. "They only say that to watch your head inflate so they can pop it." 

Stiles rubs his head like it was successfully popped.

"Hey now!" Scott yells, swatting at Lydia's arm.

Isaac wraps an arm around Stiles, rocking him like a baby.

"Fine. You big meanies." Stiles says straightening and sticking his tongue out at the audience. "Do you want 1 more song or not?" Screams. "Good. Now help me sing it."

They make their ways back to their designated areas.

"Oh and guys?" He addresses everyone in the building. "Thanks for making me look good in front of my hott date." He winks in Derek's direction and Derek visibly blushes while the audience sends cat calls clearly unaware they are standing right next to this _hot date_.

Derek isn't sure if he hopes its a joke or not.

The music starts up and Stiles stands next to Isaac rocking out to his chords until its his time to come in.

" _[Am I more than you bargained for yet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ufb70h78eO4). I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear, Cause that's just who I am this week. Lie in the grass, next to the mausoleum. I'm just a notch in your bedpost, But you're just a line in a song."_   He holds the mic out for the audience.

_"A notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song"_

He holds the mic close and sits on the edge of the stage singing to his fans _."Drop a heart, break a name. We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team."_

Then he holds out the mic and lets the audience take over and he just closes his eyes enjoying the sound. _"We're going down, down in an earlier round. And Sugar, we're going down swinging. I'll be your number one with a bullet. A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it."_

He takes over the next chorus and Derek just stares. He needs to know this kid. He wants to know what makes him tick. What goes on in that head of his. How he can go from one emotion to another on the drop of a dime. Most importantly? He wants to know how soft his skin is...but he will never admit that. Not even to himself.

Stiles looks at Derek pulling him out of his thoughts. _"Is this more than you bargained for yet. Oh don't mind me, I'm watching you two from the closet."_

Derek looks away blushing. _"_

 _Wishing to be the friction in your jeans. Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be her?"_  

_Her? Is he gay? And open about it?_

_"I'm just a notch in your bedpost, But you're just a line in a song."_ Stiles looks at him again standing up. He sings the bridge and chorus many more times running all over the stage for his fans amusement.

He stops mid stage and plays back and forth with the audience. _"We're going down, down!"_

 _"Down, down!"_ They yell back. This goes another two rounds.

He pretends to hold a machine gun. _"A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it!"_ He sings the course again pretending to threaten the band with his imaginary gun.

Scott actually looking terrified.

Derek laughs and Stiles turns the gun on him. The girls around him scream. Derek just shakes his head.

Stiles walks over grinning mischievously. _"A loaded gun complex...cock it and pull it._ " Then he shoots Derek with his imaginary gun.

Derek grabs his chest and Stiles makes a face. Before Derek can read more into it the lights go out.

The lights come back up and they all make their way front stage, remind them of the 'TBA' meet and greet later that week, and the first round of the Shelter Games, then make their exit.

Derek finds his band out by the truck.

"That was amazing!" Jackson grins still pumped. Other cars start making their way out of the parking lot.

Erica shakes Derek be the shoulders. "Did you take notes, Forest Grump? We need you to interact with the audience if we want to get anywhere!" That is Erica's biggest argument, Derek is very much aware he looks just as miserable performing as he feels.

They all laugh.

"Dully noted." Might as well tell them now. "I might actually get a one on one lesson tonight."

They all look at him incredulously.

"Yea...I ran into Stiles, the singer, during intermission." He braces for yelling.

"That's why you had her shirt!" Erica screams like the mystery had been plaguing at her.

"Yea...she spilled honey tea on it and I helped." He shrugs.

Jackson interrupts. "So you got us into an after party?!" He high fives Boyd. 

"Not exactly. They just said me."

The others groan.

"Don't worry guys. Most likely we will be spending the rest of the year with them." He tries to reassure them.

"Don't mess it up." Boyd warns and they all hug shooing him away so he doesn't miss his chance and tell him to call when they need to pick him up.

 

* * *

 

 When Derek makes it to the back of the building the roadies are loading up one of the trailers and he lights a cigarette waiting for Stiles or Lydia to appear. For a minute he's afraid he's going to be left there standing around like an idiot.

Scott walks up to him instead. "Hey Derek!"

Derek's eyes go wide.

"Right? Derek? Stiles told me about what happened. You're hanging out with us tonight, right?"

Derek nods his head.

Scott reaches out his hand. "Scott."

"I know. Nice to meet you." Derek says shaking his hand.

"Oh, thought you weren't a fan." Scott slugs him in the arm.

Derek laughs.

"You know those things will kill you." Scott says motioning toward the cigarette.

"Only if something else doesn't kill me first." He takes another drag and Scott smiles lost in thought.

Before Derek can ask, Isaac comes up.

"Hey Scott! Lydia wants our help." He motions over his shoulder. "Hey Derek."

Derek nods. Its weird but Stiles must have given them the heads up and its not like its hard to describe him.

"Should I go then?" Derek asks thumb over his shoulder.

"No!" Isaac shouts. "Uhmm Stiles will be right out."

They walk away and just before he lights another, Stiles walks over, hands in his pocket like he's nervous. Which is completely opposite of his stage presence.

"Enjoy the show?" Stiles twists his foot in the gravel.

"Yea. Did you?" Derek asks. Wondering what happened in the middle there. He still wants to know what makes him tick.

Stiles ducks his head. "Yea. I always do. But the songs get to me sometimes."

Derek nods.

"Wanna come back to my trailer? I have vodka and beer?"

"Definitely."

They walk back in silence and Derek can smell him. Sweaty and clean at the same time. He looks over and sees a bead of sweat running down from his hair line into his collar and he really wants to lick it.

He turns away scratching his head roughly. What the hell is wrong with him? He just met the guy and he's attractive, yes. But why does he feel like this? His last relationship was Kate. He's never dated a guy. This is all too weird. Not that being gay is weird, or bi, he just never felt the attraction this strongly before.

When they make it to the trailer Stiles makes a big show of it. "Home sweet home. Here you will find my big comfy couch...but don't let the description fool you. My fully stocked kitchen of alcohol and m&ms. The bathroom, avoid at all costs, seriously that thing will give you nightmares." Stiles shudders pointing to the table. "Here we have my office space where I transfer all of my scribbled lyrics through out the days to an actual note book." Then he points through a curtain. "Then there you have my big ol' comfy bed. And that you _can_ trust."

Derek laughs. "Thanks. You said there would be vodka?" He needs a stiff drink before he thinks anymore about that bed.

"Yes, sir!" Stiles salutes. Grabbing a bottle out of a top cabinet and 2 shot glasses.  "So since you are not a fan... well you weren't anyway." He winks. "What brought you to our little venue tonight? Need a chaser?" He asks turning to hand Derek the shot.

Derek shoots it.

Stiles gives him an assessing once over then grabs a chaser for himself taking his shot.

"My friends and I are in a band and we thought we would check you out." Derek lies. Hes afraid if he tells Stiles he might be his opening act it would ruin the mood and Derek definitely wants to see where this goes.

Stiles stares at him a moment then pours two more shots. "That's cool." He hands it over. "Have a name?" Stiles takes his shot.

"Were! At The Disco." Derek takes his.

Stiles busts out laughing. "Where at the disco? I'm sorry. But what?" He pours two more.

Derek grits his teeth. He doesn't care for the name either but the band voted and he lost. It's not like he had another name, he just didn't want _that_ one. "Erica likes to joke about me being a werewolf...and that is another story for another time. Don't need you laughing at me again. And the rest? Hell, they voted and I lost basically." Derek takes his waiting shot from the table. 

Stiles turns his between his fingers. They are sitting on the _not so comfy couch_ now shoulder to shoulder. "Sorry. I thought you meant where... w h e r e. But sorry bro."

Derek shrugs feeling himself warm up from the alcohol and maybe just a little bit of arousal. He can feel Stiles staring at him but he keeps his eyes closed enjoying the warmth spreading through his body.

Stiles hums to himself and Derek hears him pour another 2 shots. He opens his eyes when a cool glass is bumping his fingers on his knee.

Derek half opens his eyes and smiles a 'thank you' glancing at him, Stiles face already pink from the vodka.

Stiles grins shifting himself, putting his back against the arm of the couch, his legs pulled up in front of him. Derek follows suit doing the same at the other end of the couch, watching him carefully. He doesn't understand. He hangs out with strangers, yes. He drinks with strangers, double yes. He goes to concerts and enjoys the shows, yes. He just cant figure out why tonight is so different.

Maybe because he finally feels like he payed his friends back for what they did for him? No more stress? He's just a signature away from actually making things happen. Maybe that's why he is feeling so weird tonight. He doesn't have anything to stress over. So why not stress over his sexuality? _Great_.

Stiles 'humms' in content dropping his head back. Derek keeps his eyes on him. Admiring the stretch of his neck, the bulge of his arm folded up behind his head, his other hand splayed across his abdomen.

Yep, definitely buzzed.

Derek is so frustrated with himself, it's unreal. Its not like this came out of no where. He knows when a guy is attractive, he has just never been soo...curious before. Derek scratches his head again clearing his throat.

Stiles lift his head. "Stay right there."

Derek nods, not ready to attempt any words. He has no idea where his head is at right now.

Stiles jumps up and takes the full 2 steps to the fridge pulling out a carton of orange juice.

Derek scratches his wrist still thinking. This kid knows less about him than he does about Stiles. Shouldn't he be interrogating him? Trying to feel out if he is some crazy fan?

"I figure since we got a good buzz going on, some screwdrivers would be nice to sip on before we switch to beer."

Derek's mouth starts to water. He loves screw drivers.

Stiles fills 2 solo cups and returns to the couch.

Derek had stretched his legs out while Stiles was up so he pulls his knees up.

"Its OK. Stay comfortable." Stiles sits down aligning his legs with Derek's. Derek can feel the heat of him along his side and he would be lying if he said he didn't like it. Like a lot.

They both lay back. Derek is glad Stiles isn't a talkative drinker. When he gets buzzed he likes to ride up in silence. Take the calm moment to think about things. They sip their juice and Stiles sings a song low, barely audible.

Derek closes his eyes and just listens.

After 10 minutes or so Derek decides to speak. Wondering if maybe Stiles is just being quiet because Derek looks fucking intimidating and he doesn't want to piss him off. "Sorry, when I'm between sober and drunk I like to relax. I'm good now though. You can talk if you want." Derek says voice barely working.

"No its ok, I'm the same way." Stiles says sitting up a little. Smiling thoughtfully, dropping his eyes from Derek's.

"Cool." Derek nods taking a sip of his juice. "So you wanna tell me what fucked you up in the middle of the show?" He asks pointedly, he's strangely really curious. Partially because he wonders how bad it might be and if Stiles is ok, and partially because he wants to know if it was something small. Which would mean Stiles is a drama queen and he has a long year ahead of him.

Stiles head shoots up like he expects Derek to know exactly what had happened. Then his head falls as if he is relieved to know his secret is still safe. "Tell you what. You tell me why Erica, was it, likes to call you a werewolf and maybe ill tell you."

Derek groans finishing his cup.

Stiles jumps up to grab a beer for him.

"Fine. She says I PMS."

Stiles giggles finishing his cup and grabbing a beer for himself. "PMS?"

Derek can see the gears turning in his head.

"Ohhh! Oh my god!" He laughs harder. "Like it's your time of the month!" He continues his assault on his ego. Even though he's laughing at Derek's misfortune, Derek feels like he could listen to the idiot cackle all day.

"And this is why I didn't tell you earlier." He takes a swig of his beer feeling the weight of the world slowly ease off of his shoulders with the aid of the liquor flowing through his veins.

Stiles sits back down still laughing, but quieter like he is trying to get himself under control. "You're right. Sorry. But-oh my God. That's genius." He clears his throat sitting back. "So...how did you and your band meet up? Tell me about them."

Derek is floating by now so he just answers. He doesn't forget about his question though. "Long story short. I was in an accident with my ex. We were fighting and our car went head on with a semi. I was in the hospital for a long time." Derek pauses for a second, a surge of anger making its way out of his mouth. "The worst part is I cant even fucking remember why we were fighting!" He takes a breath and Stiles stays silent. "Anyway. I met Erica where we were both in physical therapy. She had had a really bad seizure and had partial paralysis in her left arm. We became really close. She was dating Boyd and he's Jackson's adopted brother. After Erica and I both got out they insisted I come over and hang out with them. We ended up having a lot of jam sessions. I could already play the guitar. After 6 months of that I was back to normal."

Stiles smiles at Derek and he cant help but smile back.

"Anyway, they convinced me to agree that we were a band and they wanted fame so badly I couldn't say no. They wouldn't let me if I tried." Derek laughs. "Anyway, it's been 4 years and we still haven't had much luck. Things just might turn up though." He debates on telling Stiles about the offer with Argent Records.

Stiles nods thinking, "Its good you have people like that in your life. You guys sound close."

"Now your turn. Don't think I forgot. What happened?" Derek twists his foot nudging Stiles in the thigh.

"You suck." Stiles wines. "Well... all of our songs we play are written by one or all of us. They come from a place some of us refuse to even talk about, you know? Cuz it hurt so bad? We just write a song and move on." He clears his throat. "That's the idea anyway. Just some nights though...they just bite you in the ass." Stiles looks up for a moment. "You think your over something and then... bam! You know?" He finishes his beer.

Derek thinks about when the change happened. "Dance Dance, right? Whats that about?"

Stiles heads for 2 more beers. "Its about my ex. You could say it was a big deal. I _know_ it was, but I lost him." Stiles hands him the second beer holding his hand out for the other Derek still has. Derek quickly finishes it and hands it over.

Derek could tell by the way his voice had fallen. It wasn't like they broke up. It was worse... "I'm sorry." He said _ex_ , not one of his exes, like he only has one or this one messed him up so bad he hasn't been with anyone since. Which Derek can relate to.

Stiles shakes his head. "I'm sure you have songs like that."

"Not really. I mean the few we do- the others wrote. I just sing them. I've only dated Kate, the one who sent me to the hospital." He says opening his beer. He's pretty fucked up at this point but he wants to keep Stiles talking.

"Seems like something to write about." Stiles says halfway through his bottle already. "Enough with the morbid talk." Stiles shifts his left leg landing between Derek's. "So it's established you don't have a girlfriend." Derek is all too aware of Stiles foot merely centimeters away from his crotch.

Derek smiles. "Nope. You got a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?" He tests.

Stiles smirks. "Not really. Danny and I are just the benefit type."

Derek nods. He didn't expect Stiles to be that type. But with fame you never know who is being honest, he concludes. Then he realizes that is why he is here. It's not like Stiles would want him for the company, he doesn't even know him. All he knows is ' _handsome guy saves the day... likes to drink... was creeping around outside'._.. Jesus. He only wants to fuck. This is disappointing. Or maybe not. Derek can't keep up with his own thoughts right now.

He tests his theory. "So...are the others going to join us or?" Derek asks looking toward the door. His head spinning.

"Nope. They were going to, but they had a lot to do and they said they would probably go to bed early tonight." Stiles smiles, but Derek can see the hope there.

Derek checks his phone. Its almost 3 in the morning. He has a message from Erica. _'You staying there? We're sleepy.'_ Derek texts back saying he doesn't know yet. All signs point to yes, but he isn't sure if that is what he wants. If Stiles only wants to fuck, is Derek even ready for that? If they mess around will that kill potential for an actual relationship, personally or professionally?

"Who are you texting?"

"Erica. She wants to know if I'm sleeping here or if she needs to come get me." He slips his phone back in his pocket. Waiting for him to confirm his suspicion.

"Do you want to?" Stiles asks nervously. "Stay here, I mean?"

"I wouldn't want to impose." Derek shrugs, trying to play it cool.

Stiles is crawling over him before he can realize what is happening. Stiles runs his hands along his ribs making him flex, and then Stiles mouth is pressed hard against his.

Derek debates whether or not to stop it, having never kissed a man before but he soon realizes he can't stop himself.

He opens his mouth letting Stiles in and Stiles takes it. He kisses him slow and desperate. Like his life depends on it and Derek has never been kissed that way. With Kate it was all filthy.

Derek places his hands on the small of Stiles' back holding him against himself.

Stiles moans pulling his knees up to straddle Derek's waist. _Jesus_. Stiles has his fingers tangled in his hair not necessarily tugging.

Derek has never been so turned on in all his life. But this is wrong...they will basically be co workers. "No." He forces himself to pull away from the kiss.

Stiles lifts his head, pupils blown wide in the heat of the moment. "Please." Stiles drops his head mouthing at Derek's neck pulling a moan from Derek's chest and sending a direct line of pleasure to his crotch. Stiles can feel his arousal.

Derek knows this because, Stiles own is pressed right up against it.

"Please. I need this." Stiles grinds down relentlessly.

Derek is done for. Boyd told him not to fuck up...and what is he doing? Literally, fucking, up.

He grinds up into Stiles wrapping his own hands around his head pulling him in for another kiss. He needs this too. To finally move past Kate. To explore his sexuality. To get to know this kid in his lap. He finds his fingers in Stiles hair which is long and soft. He rubs behind his ears teeth scraping against his mouth pulling moan after moan from Stiles. He could definitely listen to that much more.

Stiles develops a rhythm grinding down on Derek's lap, and slips his long fingers underneath Derek's shirt, skirting across his ribs sending him spasming.

That is Derek's spot. Derek never wants this to stop.

When Stiles' fingers slip below his pants line though... he hears Boyd like the biggest cock block known to man, and pushes Stiles up.

"I'm sorry, I cant." Derek pants. Looking anywhere but in his eyes. His aversion lasts all of 2.4 seconds.

"Why?" Stiles asks looking down at Derek desperately.

Derek feels terrible, Stiles' whiskey eyes ripping a hole in his soul.

Truth it is. "I need to tell you something."

Stiles looks almost hopeful.

"I'm signing with Argent records tomorrow with Kate and I might be your opening act for tour. It would be unprofessional." There. He said it.

Stiles sits all the way up, fear and anger taking over his expression. "Have you already signed the contract?"

"N-no..but we sign tomorrow." Derek says regretting stopping. He needs Stiles lips back on his. It just felt right. He will deal with his sexuality tomorrow. He will deal with the contract tomorrow. He just needs Stiles tonight.

"Don't-don't do it." Stiles says standing up. He adjusts himself and fills a glass of water downing the glass as quickly as possible.

Derek sits up, what the hell? "I'm not missing out on the first real chance we have to get signed just so I can sleep with you." Derek says spitefully. "I'm sorry." _Is he really that selfish?_

Stiles flips to stare at him. "That's not even... you could be my opening act, hell my manager and I would sleep with you every single second of everyday if I could." Stiles face shifts and Derek can't read it. "That's not the point. You can't sign that contract."

Derek stands up joining him trying to read his mind. When you say something like that it is a pretty big go ahead on all things sexual. "Promise?"

Stiles inhales quickly, and Derek takes that as a go ahead. Sleeping together will not be what fucks things up. He needs him right now.

Derek captures his lips again and Stiles sobs. Derek pushes him against one of the trailer walls working his mouth down his neck. Finally taking his time to notice the salty taste of his skin.

"Stop. Stop. Derek. I cant. Please." Stiles cries. Derek's head flies up still holding him against the wall. Trying to figure out what he did to make him sound like that.

"Why? I thought..." Derek asks broken. _Why the fuck does he care so much? What is going on?_

Stiles takes a slow breath, eyes locked with Derek's. "You don't even know me. You're right. It would be in appropriate."

Derek slowly lets him go.

"Text Erica."

Derek nods, pulling out his phone. Maybe he did fuck up.

"I can pick another band. Sorry I shouldn't have-"

"No that's not the point." Stiles huffs. He pushes out of the trailer lighting a cigarette. 

Derek adjusts panicking. He can't even imagine opening for anyone else. Its not even about the attraction...its just...everything. Fuck what even is his life anymore?

He steps out lighting his own and they don't speak. Both of their eyes drifting, occasionally landing on each other. Stiles looks deep in thought and Derek gets the text that she is almost there. "Almost here." He waves the phone in the air. "I really am sorry. I'll pick another band." He ducks his head walking away.

"Derek." Stiles stares at his feet. "You have my full blessing to open...just. Don't. Sign. The contract." Stiles turns and walks back into his trailer shutting the door.

Derek tries to ignore the pang of rejection.

 

* * *

 

 "So how did it go?" Erica asks smiling. "I can practically smell the sex on you."

"Why would you say that?" Derek asks in alarm. He hasn't come out and now he knows he needs to, even if hes not sure, there is some really intense attraction to the opposite sex there and he had no problem where the night had been heading before he opened his big stupid mouth.

"Derek." She rolls her eyes making a right turn. "I'm not an idiot. I saw your face throughout the show. You haven't looked like that at anyone in the whole time I have known you."

Derek ducks his head in defeat.

"Also. You have a hickey." She pokes it and Derek shoves her hand away.

Shit. No hiding it now. "I fucked up."

Erica looks alarmed like she just realized he didn't stay the night. "Why didn't you stay the night, Derek?"

"I fucked up. I waited to tell him about Argent records. Then he told me to leave." Stiles must think he was using him. That the only reason he was showing interest was for fame. God, he was such a dumb ass. But wasn't Stiles just using him for some late night hook up already?

"Fuck, Derek!" She smacks the steering wheel.  "Ok, so we don't tell the others. We just sign the contract. We can pick another band."

"That's the thing. He said he doesn't care if we open...just not to sign the contract. But if we don't sign we don't open." Derek rubs his head. "This is the first real shot any of us have had."

Erica nods.

Derek wants to just sleep forever and never wake up. Fucking hell.

Erica rubs his shoulder. "We will talk to Peter tomorrow and see what he says about the contract."

Derek nods.

"We can figure it out from there."

 

* * *

 

Peter gave him the go ahead on the contract, but still warns him about how absolutely ridiculous it is. Including the fact that Kate will control everything they do on behalf of Argent Records.

So with that, Derek makes his way to Kate's office. He really doesn't want to be there, but he has to sign it before Stiles can do something to stop it. They all agreed this morning that this was better than nothing. He decided that even if Kate controls him, his band will be happy.

He gets up to her office the secretary not even looking at him waving him through.

"Jesus, Kate! You cant do this!" Stiles' yell carries out of the office.

Derek freezes outside of the door. He's too late. Stiles is already trying to stop it from happening.

"Its just business, Stiles." She says coolly.

"Don't you fucking dare. This is about something else, and you know it!"

"Maybe." She says sarcastically. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Oh my God! So he cheated on you! Move the fuck on!" There is a crash from inside of the office and Stiles grunts.

"Don't tell me what to do, you little shit! I own you!" She yells.

"Just leave him alone." Stiles says much quieter. "Hes suffered enough, and you fucking know it."

She clicks her tongue. "Maybe this isn't even about him. Maybe I'm doing this because I know how much you care. Did you think about that?"

Derek can hear the venom in her voice. What the fuck happened between them? How does Stiles know anything about him and Kate?

"You already have me! Don't take it out on him! I'm not going anywhere." Stiles is almost crying now. "You are using his need to get signed as a way to get back at me? To make me watch you lock down another victim to puppeteer for decades to come?"

Oh, so its about her and her clients.

"Yes." She says happily. "It helps me sleep at night."

Stiles lets out a guttural groan.

Derek decides to walk in at that point. "Puppeteer?"

Stiles head flashes up, eyes the size of saucers.

"Oh, ignore him. He's still mad at me for something that happened a long time ago. It's ancient history right, Stiles?" She smiles evilly at Stiles.

Stiles growls at her.

"Well I came to sign the contract...but-" he knows what Stiles is trying to do, and he knows what the contract says, but he has to do this. He promised the band.

"Derek! Puppeteer? Do you not know what that is? You the puppet. Her the _bitch_ pulling your strings. Are you stupid?" Stiles yells waving his hands dramatically in the air for impact.

"I have to do what I have to do for the band." He looks down avoiding Stiles eyes. "If we don't tour we don't get publicity."

Kate smiles pulling out the contract.

Derek tries not to look at either of them.

"Okay." Stiles says calmly.

When Derek goes to pick up the pen, Stiles spills Kate's coffee all over her desk ruining the contract. "Oh shit, guess you will have to print another one." Stiles smiles happily.

"You think that is going to help anything? I'll have another in 30 minutes time." She chuckles.

"That's all the time I need." Stiles grabs Derek by the arm sprinting out of the room.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Derek yells as he's being pulled into an elevator. This kid is fucking crazy.

"Saving you." He says punching the button for the basement. "You really are the biggest jackass I have ever met." He pauses looking Derek in the eye. "And I am like the biggest jack ass. But I relent my crown to you. Congratu-fuckin-lations." Stiles sighs, watching the numbers above the door descend.

"I'm sorry." It's all Derek can say. He wants to say more about last night but he's not exactly sure Stiles isn't taking him to the basement to kill him. A little drastic, yes, but this kid is unpredictable.

Stiles looks at him with his big whiskey eyes and Derek wants to punch himself. He needs to fix this. He's not even sure what he really did. But Stiles is upset and Derek hates that. He knows how bad Stiles doesn't want him to sign the contract...but he promised the band.

"Forget about it. Right now we are fixing this shit situation. We can talk later." Stiles grunts, chewing at his cuticle.

The door opens and he nods letting Stiles go ahead of him. Later? Does that mean that Stiles will still talk to him after he fucks all their chances of getting signed to hell?

Stiles leads them into an old dusty office where a short haired brunette is typing away at an old computer. "Allison! Thank God you're here." Stiles shouts.

Derek recognizes her when her head pops up. He met her a few times when he was dating Kate.

"Stiles...Derek?" She looks between them confused.

Stiles shakes his head. "We need your help."

Allison nods.

"Derek is about to sign away his life...to Kate."

"Nooo." She says disbelieving. "Derek...you're in a band?"

He nods. He hardly remembers her but she certainly remembers him. Hard to forget the guy your aunt hospitalized.

"Not the point!" Stiles slams his hand down. "Now, remember that contract we wrote up when Kate was threatening to hire that circus act to open our show?"

"Stiles they weren't that bad..." She rolls her eyes.

"Again, not the point! Do you still have it?"

She digs through an old box on the wall humming to herself.

"Jesus, we only have 20 minutes!"

She flips him off.

Wait...so he is going to quickly hire another act so Derek's band can't open for him? "Stiles..I said I could choose another band to open for..."

"OhmyGod! Again, not the fucking point!" He yells and Derek puts his hands up. The more they say the angrier he gets.

Allison pulls it out. "Now what?"

"Fill it out with _Were! At the Disco_. Were like Werewolf."

"There is an exclamation point after Were..." Derek adds quietly and Stiles nods tapping the paper.

"You're still a notary right?" Stiles asks shifting from one foot to another.

Allison nods.

"Good. Derek sign."

Derek hesitates. He hasn't even read it.

"Derek. Trust me." Stiles pleads handing him the pen.

Allison clears her throat. "Basically, it is a contract stating that Fallout Shelter has the right to choose their own opening acts and they do not have to be affiliated with Argent records." She points where to sign.

"Its better than any contract you are going to sign." Stiles says. "My band will help get you started and you won't owe us anything. Now sign the fucking thing!"

Derek looks between the two of them and they genuinely look concerned. Derek doesn't know why but he trusts them.

"Fucking do it!" Stiles groans grabbing Derek and shoving him toward the papers.

Derek slowly signs on the dotted line.

Stiles grabs the pen scratching his name down below it, then Allison does the same.

"What now?" Derek asks and Allison is already out of the office.

"She is taking it to Chris. Her dad. To make it official." Stiles says falling into a chair letting out a gust of air. "Hope she's quicker than Kate."

"I am so confused." Derek rubs his forehead. 

Stiles stands up patting his arm. "Come on. I don't know about you but I could definitely use a drink."

They head out along the dark hallway. Derek has so many questions. He has no idea what he just signed, why this kid cares so much, and why he couldn't just pick another band.

The elevator dings and out walks Kate. "Ah, Derek honey, I've got a new contract waiting up in my office."

Derek looks to Stiles expecting him to rub in her face that the game is over but Stiles flails.

"I knew I'd find you down here. Not a very good hiding spot, Stiles."

Derek is sure he's 1000 percent done. All this and they still aren't out of the metaphorical woods yet.

"Well uhh Kate... that's great!" Stiles laughs. "Ha, that rhymed! I'm a poet and I didn't even know it!" He laughs again. "You think i'm a little shit! But hey, look at me, I can't quit. "

Derek rolls his eyes and Kate grabs Derek's hand pulling him into the elevator. Derek looks to Stiles for help but he only joins them shrugging. Derek feels like his hand is on fire. He would rather cut his own arm off than hold her hand. Derek closes his eyes breathing slowly, counting backwards from 10.

Kate has a death grip on him.

The elevator shifts, lifting them, and Stiles loses his balance knocking them apart. When Stiles meets his eyes as Kate curses at him for his lack of balance, Stiles winks, then looks at Derek's now free hand. Derek gives him a grin, silently thanking him.

Kate rattles on about how Stiles needs to go home and play with himself, and to stop interfering with Derek's future, and there's no point of sticking around to ruin another copy because she printed extra.

Derek keeps waiting for the ball to drop.

When the elevator dings and they step out on Kate's floor Chris walks over. "Derek! Congratulations! Its going to be busy year for you."

Kate smiles. "Good to see you big brother. We are just heading to sign the contract right now."

Derek turns to Stiles for some kind of sign and Stiles just points to Allison who is walking over to join them.

"Oh? He hasn't already? Then what's on my desk?" Chris says scrunching his eyebrows together. Raising one to smile as Allison joins him.

It takes nearly a full minute for Kate to realize that they all just pulled one over on her. "What did you do?" She turns on Derek.

Stiles answers. "Oh don't blame him. He was just doing what he had to for the band, right Derek?" He props an elbow on Derek's shoulder smirking.

"Right. We will get all the publicity that we need." Derek smiles pressing into Stiles, finally understanding some things.

Chris explains. "Stiles pulled up a contract with Allison that I approved last year. Stiles has the right to choose his own opening act and they do not have to be with our label. Stiles has the right to sign any act for his tour." Chris twists his face pointing a questioning finger at Kate. "That was part of your contract you wrote for Fallout right?"

Kate groans in frustration. "Since when is she in any kind of position to handle contracts?" She points at Allison who just looks up at her father.

"Since I promoted her. Its only right since she is to take my place one day." Chris says wrapping Allison in a hug.

"No. I am president when you retire." Kate seethes.

"Not necessarily.  We need someone to not only run the label, but be the label. Not someone who enjoys power trips and pulls up contracts that a monkey could have written better." He lowers his eye brows... "Seriously? That's was the best you could do?"

Kate storms off.

"This job isn't about revenge Kate!" Chris shouts after her with more heat than Derek has ever heard come from him.

They all stand there exchanging looks, approving their little mission.

"Well, Derek. I hope you don't mind, but part of that contract made me your manager..." Allison says happily.

Derek looks to Stiles and Chris for any kind of sign to worry, but they only smile. "My uncle peter is kind of already my manager."

"I know. We already spoke to him. He and I will take care of you." She hugs him, and Stiles shakes Chris's hand.

"You're in good hands Derek." Chris nods adjusting his jacket. "Now. Go enjoy yourself. And if you need anything just let someone know."

"Thank you sir." Derek smiles, and they all wave as Chris makes his way back to his office.

Stiles exhales loudly. "So... how about those drinks?"

"Can't." Allison sighs. "I have a lot to do to get ready for this tour."

Stiles hugs her. "Okay. Thanks Al, you are the best. _Literally_."

They exchange goodbyes and Derek follows Stiles down to the garage. No longer feeling the threat of being chopped up into little pieces.

They get to Derek's truck.

"So...Scott's throwing this party tonight. You can come if you want?" Stiles twists his foot. "We can have a few drinks. I'll even keep my hands to myself." Stiles chuckles, hands in the air. "You can bring your friends."

Derek ignores the fact he wouldn't mind Stiles not keeping his hands to himself. "Yea. Sure. Where?" Derek nods scratching his head.

"Uhh.. at this old loft he bought a long time ago. He kinda likes to paint... anyway. I can text you directions. Its at 9." Stiles says pulling out his phone.

Derek raises an eyebrow. "Don't you need my number?" 

Stiles throws an arm out. "Duh. And that's why this is the part where you give it to me, jackass." Stiles wiggles the phone in his hand. "Or I could just get it from my manager." Stiles smirks.

"And who's your manager?"

"Little miss future president up there." Stiles smiles fondly.

"Allison?" Derek asks dumb founded. "If she is so powerful why is she working in the basement?"

Stiles leans against the truck. "Well, Kate used to be my manager but we kind of had a falling out. Allison found a loop hole in my contract and made a case to Chris. It wasn't easy for him to refuse. She was already moved down to the basement because she was working under Kate and Kate does what she wants. So she banished her pretty much. Allison was reinstated but she decided to stay down there. She likes it and it keeps her off of the witches radar."

Derek is about to respond when his phone goes off. He answers.

"Derek, oh my God. Is it true?" Erica screams and Stiles smiles apparently hearing her.

"Yes, Erica we are opening for Fallout Shelter this year. So get ready-"

"We are going on touuuuurrrr!" She screams and Derek jerks the phone away from his face. "So does this mean you and singer boy made up? Any new hickeys? I want all the details." She rushes.

Stiles blushes, turning away rubbing at his neck.

Derek does the same. "Yes. No. You are about to get uninvited."

"To what?" Erica gasps. Humor gone.

"Scott is throwing a party."

"The drummer?"

"Yes the drummer. Just be ready." He hangs up on her. "Sorry." He mutters to Stiles.

Stiles turns around red faced. "Its cool. I'm glad we made up. Kinda sad there were no more hickeys though."

Derek laughs. "About that drink..." Alcohol, alcohol is good.

Stiles runs a hand through his hair. "Yea about that... I uhh.. have something I have to do. But I'll see you at the party tonight, right?" He points walking off grinning.

Derek is starting to think he would never be able to disagree with that grin. And that could be a problem.

 

* * *

 

"You made out with that guy?" Jackson asks incredulously. "Him? Why?"

Derek rolls his eyes for the 15th time. They have been talking about the last 12 hours for the past hour and Jackson only wants to focus on that. "Because I'm an adult, Jackson. Now stop talking."

Boyd joins in. "So the plan is we use this publicity to get noticed... and hope we get an offer to actually be signed by the end of the year. That's kinda perfect." He nods. "And Stiles and his friends from the label just _did_ this for us... out of the kindness of their hearts?"

Derek shrugs. "I think Stiles is stuck in a really bad contract and he didn't want the same thing to happen to someone else."

"We owe him." Erica sighs. "Maybe you can give a lil' back tonight.. at the party." She winks.

"I hate both of you." Derek stands up pointing to both Jackson and Erica.

When he gets the text from Stiles he realizes he never gave him his number, so that means Allison gave it to him, and Derek does not recall ever giving it to her either. He still goes though.

He's wearing a vibrant blue shirt but not quite turquoise, and straight leg jeans, with his boots, and leather jacket. Its winter and still cold out. This doesn't stop Erica though.

She is wearing a strapless white bustier with skin tight black leather pants and red heels. Jackson is wearing black pants, a long leave grey shirt, and a blue scarf. Boyd is wearing jeans a red shirt and a leather jacket. Erica insisted they match, they all protested but when Erica makes her mind up there is no way around it.

Jackson and Boyd are still bickering with her when they get to the loft. Music is blasting and Derek makes his way up the stairs leading to their floor. He feels bad for all the neighbors who have jobs and are going to get zero sleep tonight.

Apparently, the other 3 do not stop arguing the whole way up because when he gets to the loft and throws the door open they fall silent behind him. They _ohh_ and _ahh_ over the party and Derek shrugs them off "Can you guys just pretend to be adults for 5 seconds?"

They frown at him and Erica sticks her tongue out just as Stiles walks over.

"Hey Derek, glad you could make it!" Stiles smiles looking at his friends. "You must be Erica." He gives her a hug versus a hand shake. Then he whispers in her ear. "Just so we are clear we did make up. And unfortunately there are no more hickeys."

She pulls back stunned for a moment then laughs. "Ohh, I am going to like you!"

Stiles laughs. "Now, which of you is Jackson?"

Jackson puts his hand out giving his signature smirk.

Derek just stands back watching how Stiles has absolutely no problem with talking to strangers. Guess that comes with the territory. He starts to think Stiles is doing this because he wants to get on his good side but then Derek realizes that they all will be working together. Not just him and Stiles. It's only professional for Stiles to want to get to know all of them.

Boyd puts his hand out next. "Boyd. Thanks for helping us out today. Derek told us about what you did."

Stiles blushes looking at Derek. "Well uhh yea... I couldn't let Kate do that to him... uhmm what she did to me.. errr-" his eyes drift. "Anyway! Drinks are on me. Enjoy yourselves!" He skitters away.

Derek's eyes follow after him. Stiles is the most interesting, yet strangest person he has ever met.

Jackson leads them all to the open bar. "What can I get you?" The bartender asks pouring up a line of shots for another group.

"Derek here will be having a screw driver." Lydia says walking up rubbing Derek's shoulder, the others look at him.

Derek smiles. "So you heard about last night then?" Derek isn't sure if he is flattered.

"Stiles and I keep no secrets. He couldn't if he tried." She smiles sadly. "Which means I also know that a congratulations is in order!" She smiles at the four of them.

The others introduce themselves and thank her. Lydia and Erica start talking about fashion and Derek walks away, screw driver in hand. He's standing over to the side lost in thought about how this might be his life for the next year if Fallout are notorious partiers. He regrets not having done more research.

"So... any thoughts?" Stiles asks. Sliding up beside him with a beer in his hand.

Derek smiles a greeting, reality not quite set in yet. "Nice party. Thanks for inviting us." Derek sips his drink.

"You're adorable you know that? So modest and polite." Stiles mocks. "You're one of us now!" He pats him on the back squeezing his neck. "You have a lot to get used to."

Derek knows he's right. He never actually thought the band would ever get any where. That's the only reason he humored them and tried, because he was counting on the fact that it was so unbelievably hard to make it as an artist. They all kept their day jobs even, until today that is. Erica and Jackson quit. Boyd's a writer so he's just going to try to keep working on the road. Derek told his manager at the cafe and they told him not to forget about them and that their door is always open. Kaitlin told him that he better tip amazingly from now on. That she was watching him.

"Dude! Relax, will ya?" Stiles flails.

"Sorry." Derek responds realizing he hasn't said anything.

"Jesus." Stiles breathes. "You weren't kidding when you said you were only doing this for them." He takes a swig from his beer giving Derek an assessing look.

Erica busts out of no where. "Oh my God, is that Kesha?! You hired Kesha to play at your party?"

Derek follows her eyes to the stage located right in front of a wall of windows. Kesha was getting ready to perform.

"No." Stiles laughs.

"Don't lie! She's up there right now!" She slugs him in the shoulder. "Why didn't you tell us you were so popular?"

Stiles is laughing and Isaac comes over "Us? Popular? Who's spreading rumors now?" Isaac smils holding his hand out, "Isaac Lahey, guitarist. Welcome to the hardest year of your life."

"And probably the drunkest!" Scott laughs nearly knocking the group over, Derek reaches out managing to hold him upright. They all laugh at how Scott is already trashed.

"I'd say don't listen to them but..." Stiles breaks back in gaining the groups attention. "Its definitely going to be an experience. And Erica-"

Erica pulls her eyes away from Isaac.

"We _really_ didn't hire Kesha."

She looks like she is going to argue.

"Seriously. We hire a DJ and have a stage set up in case anyone wants to perform." They all stand in silence for a moment and Erica looks visibly less impressed.

Now Lydia walks up, Boyd and Jackson in tow. "Some artists like it. They can try out new songs, do a cover, or just sing without worrying about fans."

Seriously who does that? How do they all just know what each other are talking about and then pop out of no where?

"Its like a drunken jam session, bros!" Scott slurs on Derek's shoulder, who by the way is no help in supporting his own weight.

Stiles laughs. "Alright buddy. Let's get you some water and a soft spot to sit." Stiles shifts the weight from Derek to himself.

"Kayy" Scott grins eyes not even really open. They disappear.

"So Derek... it occurs to me that we just signed you all as our opener but have yet to hear you sing." Lydia taunts. "And it would be a shame if you're. .. you know.. terrible."

"No. We aren't bad Lydia" Jackson argues. "You are going to be sooo glad to have us. You are going to want to trade places with us. I can smell your envy already."

Derek jumps in. "Jackson how much have you had to drink?"

"Not much. I'm just messing around." Jackson defends.

"Can we try to be professional. Please." Derek stresses. Jackson can be a handful but when Derek uses _the_ voice, Jackson listens.

"Fine. Party pooper."

"We should do a song." Boyd finally butts in and Derek wants to shove the words as quickly as he can back into his mouth.

"No."

"Oh, come on Derek" Isaac pouts.

"Yea come on Derek! It'll be fun! Like in the garage! Come on please!!" Erica begs hanging on his shoulder kissing his neck looking up to him with her big brown eyes. _Shit_.

Lydia smiles like she knew there wasn't any other way for this to go. "Yea Derek... please!" She pouts and Isaac pouts too hanging over her shoulder.

Stiles bounds back over, Scott put away. "Whoa.. why is everyone pouting at Derek?"

Lydia is about to answer but Derek cuts her off. "Fine." Then he storms off. He doesn't want to look stupid in front of Stiles by chickening out. Its like ripping off a band aid right?

Erica follows bouncing with excited nerves, Jackson looks like he is going to throw up, and Boyd is as stoic as ever. They get to the side of the stage and Kesha is finishing up some song about a dinosaur or an old man, Derek isn't sure.

"So? Any idea what we are going to sing? It has to be something where we all know our parts well.." Erica muses. "Jackson." Erica says smiling and Jackson goes to defend himself like she just said he was the one who would forget.

"That's perfect." Boyd adds. "We all know it. We play it more than the others. And-"

"You can be sexy for Stiles with it!" Erica adds crudely, shimmying her breasts.

"Oh." is all Jackson adds.

Derek is right there with him. They meant the song. Derek rolls his eyes and locates Stiles making his way over.

"I don't know how to be sexy." Derek adds urgently.

Erica tries to coach quickly. "Oh, we can work on that later-oh my God this is actually happening-just don't be stiff. Sing to Stiles. Actually, get into the music." 

"I cant do this." Derek freezes up and they all rub at his shoulders and arms.

Stiles is almost over to them and Derek is freaking out. He is about to go on stage and make a complete fool of himself.

"You look like you are about to be sick." Stiles says judgingly, finally having made it over to them.

"No." Derek denies. But he is. He's totally about to blow.

Stiles puts his hand on his face soothingly running it down his neck and stopping over his chest. "You got this. Chris listened to your Demo. He would have torn up the contract if you weren't good enough. Now. Take a breath."

Derek does and so do the others.

"Okay! Here we go. You know what you are going to sing?"

They all nod.

"Okay...I'll go up and introduce you guys. But you are going to have to say something. You aren't Beyonce'.. you can't just sing and leave."

They all look at each other mentally forcing the job on any one else.

The song wraps up and Stiles straightens his button up bounding up the stairs as Kesha exits. They exchange a hug and a few words, and Derek smiles amazed by how effortless this all is to Stiles.

"How are we doing tonight?!" He shouts at the party and they all hold their drinks up hollering. "Good, good, keep it up!" He puts his own beer out. "Now listen. We just signed a new band, totally _unknown_ , to open for us this year!"

Oh god. Now if they fuck up they are going to make them look so bad. They all look at each other thinking the same thing. 

"I think you are going to like them. Quite a bit of eye candy. Now give a warm welcome to the new additions to our family!" They all cheer and Stiles holds his arm out inviting them up. "Shit! Almost forgot! Their name is Were! At The Disco. Were like werewolf. I know I thought the same thing, but its a whole thing -again cheers to Were! At The Disco!"

Everyone shouts and Derek feels a little bit of tension fall off his shoulders. This won't be so bad. Everyone seems nice.

Stiles pats him on the back as they walk up and Stiles exits. They take their places.

"Bear with us guys. We weren't aware of Fallout's impromptu performances." Derek says and he honestly doesn't know how he manages to sound so calm. Charming even. Performance persona _on_! Derek thankfully has some kind of survival instinct.

The band is tuning their instruments a little more carefully than needed so Derek stalls. "I'm Derek. That's Erica, Jackson, and big guy back there is Boyd." They all clap. Derek doesn't know how to react to their welcoming faces. Fallout has a really good group of connections. "Thank you guys for being so patient." He looks around annoyed, motioning for Jackson to hurry the fuck up. "Sorry. He just doesn't want to sing the song we chose."

Erica joins in. "It's about his mom." This earns a laugh from the audience and a frown from Jackson.  "Come on! They don't have all night! Lets go!"

Jackson grunts. "Fine. And in case you all are curious? My mom loves this song." Jackson rolls his eyes violently.

Derek nods to the group and they all agree they are ready and Erica starts them off. _"_

 _[Climbing out the back door](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b64g0606O2k&nohtml5=False), didn't leave a mark. No one knows it's you Miss Jackson. Found another victim, But no one's gonna find Miss Jackson, Jackson, Jackson."_ Erica sings beautifully, seductively even, and Derek finds courage in that.

He finds Stiles and takes a deep breath. Stiffly holding the microphone stand. _"You put a sour little flavor in my mouth now. You move in circles hoping no one's gonna find out. But we're so lucky, Kiss the ring and let 'em bow down. Looking for the time of your life."_ Stiles looks shocked, mouth practically touching the floor. And not in the bad way. Derek grins looking to the rest of the audience. He can do this. " _A pretty picture but the scenery is so loud. A face like heaven catching lighting in your nightgown. But back away from the water, babe, you might drown- The party isn't over tonight."_

Every one is listening intently but smiling mostly at Jackson who is visibly irritated at the lyrics of the song. His mom is kind of a slut and she has come on to Boyd and Derek many times and that is what started the song idea in the first place.

 _"He-eyy."_ Jackson sings flashing his pretty boy smirk.

 _"Where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?"_ Derek yells.

Stiles is blushing and Lydia is grinning ear to ear shaking Stiles arm.

_"He-eyy."_

This adds more fire to Derek and his body loosens, he needs them to like them, Stiles to like him. He puts his hands above his head clapping. The band follow suit having an instrumental break and the party joins in automatically no questions asked. _"Out the back door, Goddamn, But I love her anyway. I love her anyway. I love her anyway. Out the back door, Goddamn, But I love her anyway."_ They all sing.

 _"Miss Jackson-Miss Jackson-Miss Jackson-Are you nasty?"_   He grips the mic flexing his arms cheaply. _"Miss Jackson-Miss Jackson-Miss Jackson-Are you nasty?"_   The crowd starts dancing and all of Derek's nerves melt away completely.  He finally has confirmation that they aren't shit. He pulls the mic off the stand and sings the chorus one more time. _"I love her anyway."_ He winks at Lydia and Stiles.

 _"Ohhhh"_ Jackson sings.

Derek can hear how he is relaxed as well.

 _"Where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?"_   Derek's eyes keep going back to Stiles who is smiling like an idiot. They finish the chorus and Derek has to remind himself of the next words for a moment since he got lost in Stiles eyes. _What a fucking cliché?_

 _"Way down 'til the fire finally dies out. You've got 'em wrapped around your finger, Watch 'em fall down. There's something beautiful and tragic in the fallout. Let me say it one more time."_ Derek wants to laugh that fallout is in the song.

They all sing, including the audience, songs pretty catchy and Derek does his best to work the stage, walking back and forth. Flexing his arms subtly while holding the microphone.  He even grabs at his stomach when he sings louder than normal.

When Erica takes back over. _"_ _Climbing out the back door, didn't leave a mark. No one knows it's you Miss Jackson. Found another victim, But no one's gonna find Miss Jackson, Jackson, Jackson."_

Derek looks around unable to believe people actually like them. Stiles even.

Stiles who is looking right at... Derek's fly.  Derek has never felt so powerful.

 _"I love her anyway!"_ He yells kicking his leg out. He gets more into it rocking his body a little bit. " _Miss Jackson-Miss Jackson-Miss Jackson-Are you nasty?"_ Every one in the room sings the chorus with them and dance suggestively. Derek dances more provocatively as well.

 _"Ohhhh"_ Jackson sings.

 _"Where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?"_   Derek yells feeling sweat at the back of his neck.

_"Ohhhh"_

Derek can see the lust in Stiles eyes... and Derek feels it too. _"Out the back door, Goddamn, But I love her anyway."_ He finishes.

The crowd screams. The others run up to him in a victory hug.  All Derek can think is how much he needs to thank Stiles. Jesus. He owes him. He waves and runs off stage.

Derek runs through the audience straight for Stiles but the trip is a lot longer than expected with everyone grabbing on to him and congratulating, complimenting, or just flat out flirting with him.  He doesn't think he could ever turn more red. What freaks him out the most is half of the people he recognizes from the media, and here they are mauling him. Its just too much to wrap his head around.

He finally makes it to Stiles who has two drinks in his hands. "That was-" Stiles starts to say but Derek cuts him off by throwing his arms around him. Stiles sputters, drinks sloshing.

"Thank you." Is all Derek can get out. He would never be able to say it enough. Without Stiles they would all still be in a garage fantasizing about this... and not even this... this is too good. What Stiles saw in him, he will never know. But he refuses to let him down.


	2. Oh, I hoped for your name on the Ouija Board.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 from Stiles' point of view plus things that were happening when Derek wasn't around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' point of view. Hopefully you like it, and I do him justice!  
> Also, unbeta'd, therefore, all mistakes are mine.  
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

Stiles, without question, believes he is dead when his eyes land on Derek standing in the doorway of Lydia's dressing room. He's hallucinating. He has to be, there is no way Derek is standing there.

His immediate response is to lunge and attack Derek with all the missed affection of the past 3 years, but then he remembers Derek doesn’t remember.

Doesn’t remember all of the secret hook ups. All the sneaking around. Thier epic journey. Doesn’t remember Kate freaking out when she found out that they were sneaking around. Doesn’t remember their year of fucking _happiness_. Most of all, he doesn't remember Stiles. That hurts.

Thankfully, Lydia is the strongest person Stiles knows and she takes control by getting Derek out of the room before Stiles has a full on meltdown or throws up, whichever comes first. Both equally probable.

After he is sure Derek is gone he just collapses, absolutely no strength remaining to keep him up right.

Lydia is right there though, as always.

Panic attack taking over, surprise, surprise.

Lydia hushes him pulling him to her chest. "Shhh... Stiles, baby, its okay. You are stronger than this. Just breathe." She says in her mama voice like she has done so many times before. Even he feels like a broken record at this point.

Stiles clutches at her crying. "He doesn’t remember. He’s never going to remember. "

She brushes his hair aside agreeing with him.

"And I can’t forget it. I have to live with this every single moment of every day." He chokes.

She shakes him turning him to face her. "Now, you listen here you little shit. We have been over and over this. You need to remember or that whole time was a waste. If you could forget every moment would you?" She pauses dramatically and Stiles tries to remember how to breathe. "Hell no. Now. We have 30 minutes of a show left so you need to pull yourself together for every one of your supporters out there. All the people who you have pulled out of the lowest point in their life. I can get rid of Derek when he gets back, but if you want him to come back that’s up to you. Now. Go smoke and try to breathe. You can do this, honey." She pats his back reassuringly.

Stiles is still crying, and Lydia is still his own personal angel. They have had this talk hundreds of times over. He nods forcing his way up and runs away. Derek could walk back through that door any second now.

Stiles runs to his dressing room staring at himself in the mirror. "Get it together, Stiles. We can do this. Listen to Lydia." He pulls himself together convincing himself he would be the dumbest, dumb, to ever dumb if he let Derek leave again.

He runs out when one minute is called praying he didn’t miss him.

Derek is just about to push through a door and Stiles runs to grab his shoulder. The warmth and firmness distracting him momentarily. Stiles stutters but somehow manages to invite him to stick around after the show. Before he says anything stupid, 20 seconds is called. He flees, getting back into performing mode. Derek will come back after the show. Thats all that matters.

He sings a few songs but can’t find Derek in the audience.  Finally, he looks over out of habit and there he is. In the same God damn spot he used to stand in at all of his shows. _Jesus Christ_.

The music starts and he follows his gut. He needed to sing this song to Derek.

"Stop." He manages to pull his gaze away from Derek.  "We were going to save most of the new album for the tour but I really think you guys deserve one right now." Derek deserves it. Stiles deserves to sing it to him, finally.

They make eye contact and nod in a greeting.  "Its called The Mighty Fall." They hold eye contact for a moment then Stiles turns.

When Stiles angles a mic at Scott clearly demonstrating none of them were prepared for this, Scott shakes his head at him.

Lydia begins the chords looking at Isaac and he joins in on guitar both of them looking at Stiles.

Stiles tries to give a reassuring smile, but they all know him too well. But he needs to do this. He could have chosen a much worse song so they can suck it up.

Scott comes in with a few beats and starts them off. _"[Oh God](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-PriC3qm7b8)!"_   Hesitation, _"Scott's on."_  

Stiles mentally apologizes for his shit to his band mates. _"_

_Fallout, boy!"_

Stiles brings his elbows in tight like a rapper. _"Did-did-did you trip down 12 steps into Malibu, ooh, ooh?"_   He punctuates with his other hand, pointing out Derek's fall; the accident. _"So why the hell is there a light that's keeping us forever, uh, uh, uh."_ The spotlight. The center of their life when they were together. How they bonded. How Stiles keeps him in his life with his music. _"Bel Air baby, did you get dressed up? Pretty pout, pout!"_ Always with the fucking pout.

The others echo.  _"While you bottomed out out."_   They all glance back at Stiles, checking on him. Their moods completely changed for a second,

Stiles decides not to look at them anymore.

 _"I can't stop it when there's chemicals keeping us together. Uh, uh, uh, I'm singing!"_   Stiles fights the urge to look at Derek. Somehow, Derek ended up here tonight. Backstage. _"Whoa, how the mighty fall, The mighty faaalll,"_   He screams forcing all of the air out of his lungs, feeling the song more than he ever has before. _"The mighty faaalll, They fall in looove."_   Stiles is in his own world almost as if the audience isn't even there, and they aren't. There is only Derek. _"How the mighty fall, The mighty fall, The mighty fall. Oh, how the mighty fall in love."_ They fell hard and they were powerful. Nothing could come between them...well except apparently memory loss. Fuck. Stiles redirects himself back to the song before he breaks down. Again.

 _"Your crooked love is just a pyramid scheme. And I'm dizzy on dreams."_ Stiles falls to his knees gripping his forehead, remembering all of his plaguing memories that keep him up at night. _"But if you ask me two's a whole lot lonelier than one."_   He looks right to left, landing on Derek. He had tried sticking around but he just wasn’t his Derek anymore and it hurt too much to pretend that they were never anything. Stiles' eyes drop as he is pulled back into the song. _"B-baby we should have left our love in the gutter where we found it!"_   He should have just left him with Kate.  None of this would have ever happened. Derek would have never been in the accident and almost died.

The others echo again, _"Gutter where we found it."_

_"'Cause you think, you think, your only crime is that you got caught."_

Derek had felt bad about how Kate found out about them. That was why he was with Kate that day of the accident. He was trying to apologize.

 _"_ _I'm singing- Whoa, how the mighty fall, The mighty faaalll, The mighty fall, They fall in loooove!"_ He sits on his heels arm stretched out to the side, his neck straining. _"How the mighty fall, The mighty fall, The mighty fall! Oh, how the mighty fall in love."_   He pulls himself up, arms heavy. He didn’t realize how good it would feel to release all of his pain and frustration through these belts when he wrote it. _"It's getting clear. You're never coming clean. So I'll lock you up inside."_   He pulls at the neck of his shirt, his Derek is never coming back. _"And swallow, swallow the keeey!"_   That part hurt. It sounded easier when he wrote it but having Derek right in front of him? That's a whole other ball game. He knows he's going to only hurt himself worse. He just cannot ignore Derek when he is right in front of him. He just _can’t_.

Stiles runs behind the drums as Scott stands up running front stage taking over, and allows himself a momentary distraction with the drums.

 _"_ _Yeah. Hello? Yeah, I know you said not to call unless I'm dying."_ Scott leans forward grabbing hands, and then his heart. Scott sure knows how to get the ladies excited. _"Well, I'm driving and I can't stop staring at my eyelids, but even though my eyes closed, I still see you."_

Stiles thinks about the last few years but stops when his throat gets tight. He pounds harder at the drums redirecting his attention to Scott. This rap Scott wrote is for Allison, Kate's niece. _Figures_.

 _"Like, I let her climb on top. I'm either fuckin' or workin', so the grind don't stop."_   He lifts his shirt, flashing his abs making obscene hip motions earning a few screams from the girls. _"They say I got screws missing, well, hell, only when I'm missing you. And, hell, yeah, I'm a dick, girl, addicted to you!"_   Scott runs back up playing the drums with Stiles as Stiles works his way off already singing loud enough that the mic by the drums is picking him up perfectly, he has to get this out. It might be his only chance.

 _"Whoa, how the mighty fall, The mighty fall, The mighty faaall."_   He starts wandering around the stage legs swinging randomly. They fell so fucking hard from grace. _"They fall in loooove! How the mighty fall, The mighty faaaall, The mighty fall! Oh how the mighty fall in love."_   He blows a kiss and walks off stage unable to even look at Derek.

Stiles runs to the sound manager practically in a frenzy "Turn on the corner mic! Now! Your job literally depends in it!"

The manager nods adjusting a few settings.

"Am I tuned in?" Stiles asks adjusting his second earpiece. 

The guy nods.

Stiles can tell he is about to ask the question Stiles is afraid to answer. If he for one second actually believes Derek is there, in his God damn spot even, he will just disappear. Mirroring every single one of Stiles’ dreams for the last 3 years.

When Stiles and Derek first started out, when they were still sneaking around, they set up a mic for Derek to communicate with him while he was on stage. This had been decided after a very unfortunate performance where Stiles fly was down all the way up to intermission. Stiles laughs now but he didn’t then. Thank God he had been wearing underwear.

"We love you Stiles!" He hears the crowd scream and he quickly adjusts himself running out front. Still a show to put on after all.

"Whoa whoa whoa." He shouts waving his hands. "Did I say we were done?"

The 3 look at him confused.

"We have one more song for you guys and I know you all know it so please help me with the words." He tries to ignore his bands confused looks. He and Lydia hadn't been able to tell the others about Derek before they went back on.

Lydia is just concerned.

"Wait? Why'd you run away? Did you see a puppy or something?" Scott asks patting Stiles on the shoulder. Scott his best fucking friend and a God given gift to this planet.

"Easy." Stiles smiles, thinking of an excuse to rival Scott's joke. "I had to pee. Like _really_ bad." He groans, rubbing his head like it was the best piss he had ever taken. "Whoo! Beer and shows do not mix when you are the one on stage." He hasn't had a single drink.

The crowd as predicted, laugh and scream though.

Derek laughs too from his corner of the stage.

Stiles smiles at him, happy to hear his laugh again. Stiles had heard it in the alley but he didn't know it was him at that time. Which he hates himself for, by the way.

Stiles redirects his attention back to the audience. "We still can't do the meet and greet tonight..." 

The crowd boos.

"Hold on hold up! You didn't boo Lydia when she told you!" He props his hand on his hip looking down at the first few rows like a parent. This is part of his relationship with his fans. They pick on each other.  "I’m the favorite, remember?!"

Lydia laughs. "They only say that to watch your head inflate so they can pop it." 

Stiles rubs his head like it was successfully popped, pouting at the audience.

"Hey now!" Scott yells, swatting at Lydia’s arm.

Isaac wraps an arm around Stiles, rocking him like a baby.

Stiles loves his band.

"Fine. You big meanies." Stiles says straightening, the sooner they sing this song, the sooner they get off stage, and the sooner he will see Derek.  "Do you want 1 more song or not?"

Screams.

"Good. Now help me sing it."

They make their ways back to their designated areas.

"Oh and guys," he addresses everyone in the building. "Thanks for making me look good in front of my hott date." He winks in Derek's direction and Derek visibly blushes while the audience sends cat calls, clearly unaware they are standing right next to his hot date. Stiles laughs, knowing just how embarrassed Derek can get. _God, is this real life?_

The music starts up and Stiles stands next to Isaac rocking out to his chords until its his time to come in. He tries to clear his head of all his fears. He tries to rewind and go back to the nights he performed while they were together. Then he's there, 3 years earlier. He could cry.

" _[Am I more than you bargained for yet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ts5h98GELYI)_. _I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear, Cause that's just who I am this week. Lie in the grass, next to the mausoleum. I'm just a notch in your bedpost, But you're just a line in a song"_   Stiles holds the mic out for the audience and remembers how Derek used to pick on him for being a handful and then Stiles calming down to help Derek relax. Stiles wrote this song when he and Derek were still sneaking around.

 _"A notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song."_   His band echos.

He holds the mic close and sits on the edge of the stage singing to his fans. _"Drop a heart, break a name. We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team."_   That was their inside joke. He stifles a laugh.

Then he holds out the mic and lets the audience take over and he just closes his eyes enjoying the sound. For a moment he can imagine going backstage after the show and Derek pulling him into a closet and filthily describing just how much he wanted to fuck him during the show. _"We're going down, down in an earlier round. And Sugar, we're going down swinging. I'll be your number one with a bullet. A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it."_

He takes over the next chorus and Derek just stares. Stiles can feel it. Call him crazy, but he has always felt this connection where he can feel Derek's energy or something. It used to scare people how they just knew when the other was in the room.

Stiles looks at Derek confirming his suspicion. _"Is this more than you bargained for yet. Oh, don't mind me, I'm watching you two from the closet."_   He looks away blushing, and so does Derek. _"Wishing to be the friction in your jeans. Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be her?"_   This was the song he wrote to clue his fans in on his not so hetero tendencies. _"I'm just a notch in your bedpost, But you're just a line in a song."_   Stiles looks at him again, standing up. He sings the bridge and chorus many more times running all over the stage for his fans amusement. As well as for himself, there is just too much excess energy pent up under his skin.

He stops mid stage and plays back and forth with the audience. _"We're going down, down!"_

 _"Down, down!"_ They yell back. He always takes opportunities like this to play with his fans. Sometimes he writes it into the songs just for this purpose.

He pretends to hold a machine gun. _"A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it!"_   He sings the course again pretending to threaten the band with his imaginary gun.

Scott actually looking terrified, probably because Stiles hasn't pulled his imaginary gun since the last show he preformed in front of Derek.

Thankfully his new mood makes the rest of the band completely relax.

Derek laughs and Stiles turns the gun on him.

The girls around him scream.

Derek just shakes his head.

Stiles walks over grinning mischievously. _"A loaded gun complex...cock it and pull it"_ then he shoots Derek with his imaginary gun.

Derek grabs his chest and Stiles is stunned back into reality. Derek always did that... but he didn't at first. He started playing with Stiles after he realized his _attraction_.

Derek is still attracted to him.

Christmas morning came early this year.

The lights come back up and they all make their way front stage and remind them of the 'TBA' meet and greet later that week and the first round of the Shelter Games then make their exit.

Stiles needs to see Derek. Like now. Like yesterday-no 3 years ago.

 

* * *

 

Stiles is in his dressing room, hurrying to get cleaned up, when Scott storms in with Isaac on his heels.

"Are you okay?" Scott says worriedly, taking Stiles roughly by the shoulders forcing him to look him in the eyes.

Stiles smiles, loving his best friend.

Isaac is standing back but clearly just as worried.

"Derek's here." Stiles hadn’t said it out loud yet and he regrets it as soon as it leaves his mouth. This is the part in his dreams where Derek suddenly evaporates.

"Derek?" Isaac breathes.

Stiles nods, not willing to say it again.

"What? Why? How?" Scott pauses. "Does he?"

Stiles wants to kick him and then kiss him for being so damn optimistic.

Stiles tries to explain as quickly as possible. "Ran into him during intermission. Didn’t know it was him at first-and I hate myself for that, I should have fucking known-bastard even had the nerve to say he _wasn’t_ a fan. But anyway! He ran in behind me when Lydia screamed-"

"What happened to Lydia?" Isaac bursts in alarm looking around for her like he needed to confirm that she was okay even though he just saw her seconds ago on stage.

"Nothing. She spilled something.” Stiles shrugs, trying to rush this conversation so he could go find Derek. “Anyway Derek ran in behind me then he spoke and I turned around and I have literally never felt so paralyzed in my life."

Scott rubs his shoulder.

"Anyway, I told him to stick around after the show...I couldn't just let him walk out of my life again." Stiles swallows hard.

Isaac is hugging him within a second. "That's great. Him being back. Opens the door all over again."

Stiles snorts. "Yea, the door to years of pain that I have been trying to brick the fuck up, and lock away in a deep, dark, never to be touched again place." Stiles can’t look at them anymore, he needs to regain his strength.

Isaac pulls away, patting him on the chest then makes his way to the door. "Thats not what I meant." Then he’s gone.

Stiles and Scott look at each other for an explanation for what in the hell _that_ means and they both decide to shrug it off.

"Well.." Scott says taking a breath. "I’ll go find him and keep him company and you make yourself pretty." Scott winks and trots out the door.

 

* * *

 

When Stiles walks out he spots Derek immediately. He walks over shoving his hands in his pockets to make sure he doesn't grab him and plant one on him out of instinct. "Enjoy the show?" Stiles twists his foot in the gravel dodging Derek's eyes. He feels like a teenager all over again.

"Yea. Did you?" Derek asks.

Stiles realizes he must have looked like a fool storming off stage and shit. _Great job, idiot!_

Stiles ducks his head embarrassed. "Yea. I always do.” He pauses. “But the songs get to me sometimes."

Derek nods.

"Wanna come back to my trailer? I have vodka and beer?" Stiles tries to change the subject using Derek’s favorite drinks as the catalyst.

"Definitely."

They walk back in silence and he can feel Derek looking at him.

Stiles ignores it the best he can. Which isn’t very well, honestly.

When Derek turns away scratching his head, Stiles definitely doesn't miss it. Derek always did that when he was thinking about sex, but didn't understand why.

Stiles smiles, pleased that even if Derek doesn't remember him, he's still attracted to him and there is no denying that. Not as far as Stiles is concerned, _no sir ee_.

When they make it to the trailer Stiles makes a big show of it. Hoping to make Derek crack a smile. Lord, he needs to see Derek smile. "Home sweet home. Here you will find my big comfy couch...but don’t let the description fool you. My fully stocked kitchen of alcohol and M&M’s. The bathroom, avoid at all costs, seriously that thing will give you nightmares." Stiles shudders flashing back to unpleasant ‘me time’, then  points to the table. "Here we have my office space where I transfer all of my scribbled lyrics throughout the days to an actual note book." Then he points through a curtain, "Then there you have my big ol' comfy bed. And _that_ you can trust." Stiles winks, and predictably that sends his thoughts in a whole new direction. He mentally shoves the thoughts under the bed to be addressed later. When he is alone. In bed. With his hand. And lube. Lots of lube.

Derek laughs and Stiles gets the smile he was looking for. "Thanks. You said there would be vodka?" Derek smirks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir!" Stiles salutes grabbing a bottle out of a top cabinet and 2 shot glasses. "So since you are not a fan... well you weren't anyway." Stiles winks pouring two shots. "What brought you to our little venue tonight?"

This was actually the biggest question plaguing him, this couldn’t just be _coincidence_.

"Need a chaser?" Stiles asks, turning to hand Derek the shot. He hopes the answer is _no_. So far, everything Derek does is the same as it used to be which would mean that he’s still the same person and he wasn't completely ruined. Not that Derek could ever be ruined, just ruined for Stiles. Meaning he cannot have him. Not the same way.

Derek shoots it, and Stiles silently thanks the Gods and grabs a chaser for himself to take his own shot. "My friends and I are in a band and we thought we would check you out." Derek mutters vaguely.

Stiles stares at him a moment, wondering how in the hell Derek is in a band, that was not expected, then pours two more shots. He definitely needs a shot to wrap his head around _that_ idea. "Thats cool."

Derek? In a band? Shut the front door.

Stiles hands over Derek’s shot. "Have a name?" Stiles takes his shot, he needs dangerous amounts of alcohol in his system to keep him calm.

Derek is actually fucking here. Derek is actually sitting in his trailer. Derek might still be _Derek_.

"Were! At The Disco." Derek takes his second shot, and Stiles busts out laughing. Not only is Derek in a band, but hes in one of the lamest named bands ever. This is some alternate universe shit.

"Where at the disco? I'm sorry. But what?" Stiles pours two more shots for them.

Derek grits his teeth. "Erica likes to joke about me being a werewolf...and that is another story for another time. Don't need you laughing at me again. And the rest? Hell, they voted and I lost, basically." Derek takes his waiting shot from the table not waiting for Stiles to hand it over. 

Stiles turns his shot between his fingers wondering if he should keep pushing Derek like he used to, to piss him off, or try to appease him. They are sitting on the not so comfy couch now and Stiles remembers the things they used to do on said couch. He redirects his thoughts. "Sorry. I thought you meant where... w h e r e. But... sorry bro."

Derek shrugs and Stiles is glad he went with not pushing.

Derek leans back closing his eyes and Stiles just stares unable to look anywhere else, still dumbfounded that he actually gets to look at Derek's beautiful profile again. Sadly, he keeps reminding himself, that _that_ is all he can do. Look. No touching. _Fuck_.

Stiles hums to himself thinking about how badly he wishes the accident had never happened, and pours another 2 shots to soothe the ache. Stiles rubs the shot glass against Derek's knuckles wanting to get as much in Derek's system in case he says something revealing. That way Derek might put it off to being drunk or not pick up on it at all.

Derek opens his eyes and takes the glass smiling at Stiles.

 _Fuck_. There’s that stupid impulse again. Stiles just wants to jump his bones in messy reunion sex. But thats not what it would be for Derek. This is a one sided reunion.

Stiles grins, trying to hide his sudden pang of pain, shifting himself and putting his back against the arm of the couch with his legs pulled up in front of him. Putting some distance between them.

Derek follows suit doing the same at the other end of the couch and watches him carefully.

Stiles grins happily. This is exactly how they used to sit when they first started hanging out.

Stiles hums in content dropping his head back.

Derek keeps his eyes on him and Stiles uses the opportunity to accentuate his long neck and bicep. Those were always two of Derek’s weaknesses.

Derek scratches his head again clearing his throat.

 _Yes_! Stiles wants to fist pump the air. He’s still attracted to me. I can die happy now. He sings internally.

Stiles lift his head. "Stay right there."

Derek nods, and Stiles knows they are both pretty buzzed at this point.

Stiles jumps up and takes the full 2 steps to the fridge pulling out a carton of orange juice. "I figure since we got a good buzz going on some Screwdrivers would be nice to sip on before we switch to beer." Stiles fills 2 solo cups and returns to the couch.

Derek loves screw drivers. Stiles never cared for them before the accident but after, it was his go-to drink. Pretty much his only beverage, at all. It was a bad time. Now he always has it stocked in his trailer. Cigarettes too, he never smoked before either, but screwdrivers tasted like Derek, and cigarettes smelled like him.

Derek had stretched his legs out while Stiles was up so he starts to pull his knees up when Stiles returns from the counter, two drinks in hand.

"It's ok. Stay comfortable." Stiles sits down aligning his legs with Derek's. Stiles has to, very consciously, demand his body not to react to the heat all the way down his side. It was a very welcomed warmth to say the least.

They both lay back to relax some more. They sip their juice and Stiles sings a song low, barely audible. He plays with word combinations and different melodies. The inspiration is strong tonight. _Wonder why?_

After 10 minutes or so Derek decides to speak, stopping Stiles just as he realizes what the song is about.

"Sorry, when I'm between sober and drunk I like to relax. I’m good now though. You can talk if you want." Derek says voice hardly working. Derek is drunk.

Stiles fights a smile loving how he can still read all of Derek's subliminal tells. Stiles also prides himself in remembering how Derek liked to sit in silence on the ride up the drunken scale. Another thing Stiles never did before Derek, he was a chatter box before. Somehow, Derek just grounded him. Like now, for instance.

"No it's ok, I’m the same way." Stiles says, sitting up a little.

"Cool." Derek nods taking a sip of his juice. "So you wanna tell me what fucked you up in the middle of the show?" Derek asks, pointedly.

Stiles' head shoots up expecting Derek to know exactly what had happened. Then his head falls relieved, and disappointed, to know his secret is still safe. _Unfortunately_. "Tell you what. You tell me why _Erica_ , was it?, likes to call you a werewolf and maybe I’ll tell you." Thats a lie, he’s not telling him the truth. He will just hint at it. That’s all he can do. That aside though he really wants to hear more about the people who have had the privilege of having Derek this whole time.

Derek groans, finishing his cup.

Stiles jumps up to grab a beer for him.

"Fine. She says I PMS." Derek mumbles.

Stiles giggles finishing his cup and grabbing a beer for himself. "PMS?" It takes a few seconds for it to click. "Ohhh! Oh my God!" Stiles laughs harder. "Like it's your time of the month!" He continues his assault on Derek's ego. Stiles used to tell him when he was PMS'ing all the time and he is very disappointed in himself for not thinking that pun up himself.

"And this is why I didn’t tell you earlier." Derek takes a swig of his beer.

To anyone else Derek would seem angry but Stiles can see by the droop in his shoulders and his low lids that he is completely at ease.

Stiles sits back down still laughing, but quieter, trying to get himself under control. "You’re right. Sorry. But-oh my God. That's genius." Stiles clears his throat, sitting back. "So...how did you and your band meetup? Tell me about them."

"Long story short."

Stiles wants the long story; wants to know every single detail about the past 3 years.

"I was in an accident with my ex. We were fighting and our car went head on with a semi. I was in the hospital for a long time."

Stiles remembers. Mostly, he remembers, how he was the first one there and Derek had no idea who he was.

"The worst part is I can’t even fucking remember why we were fighting!" Derek takes a breath and Stiles stays silent, they were fighting about him. "Anyway. I met Erica there. We were both in physical therapy she had had a really bad seizure and had partial paralysis in her left arm. We became really close. She was dating Boyd and he's Jackson's adopted brother. After Erica and I both got out they insisted I come over and hang out with them. We ended up having a lot of jam sessions. I could already play the guitar."

Stiles remembers, they used to joke about making him join the band as their sexy guitarist.

"After 6 months of that I was back to normal."

Stiles smiles at Derek glad he’s okay. He can still see the bruised and bloody Derek laid up in the hospital bed.

"Anyway, so they convinced me to agree that we were a band, and they wanted fame so badly I couldn't say no. They wouldn't let me if I tried." Derek laughs. "It's been 4 years and we still haven’t had much luck. Things just might turn up though."

Stiles isn't sure if he wants it to. For selfish reasons, _obviously_. And a little bit because he knows Derek has never wanted fame.

Stiles nods thinking. "It's good you have people like that in your life. You guys sound close." Stiles really is glad Derek has people like that around him. Yea, its not _him_ , but its not Kate either. Stiles considers that a win.

"Now your turn. Don’t think I forgot. What happened?" Derek twists his foot nudging Stiles in the thigh.

"You suck." Stiles wines, but he already knew Derek wasn’t one to let things go. "Well... all of our songs we play are written by one, or all of us. They come from a place some of us refuse to even talk about, you know? Cuz it hurt so bad? We just write a song and move on." Stiles clears his throat. "That's the idea anyway. Just some nights...they just bite you in the ass." Stiles looks up for a moment, the teeth that bit his tender bottom literally sitting right in front of him. Both physically and mentally. "You think you're over something and then... _bam_! You know?" Stiles finishes his beer, starting to realize just how fucked he is.

Derek isn’t really back, and Stiles needs to remember that.

"Dance Dance, right? What's that about?" Derek asks.

Stiles heads for 2 more beers. "Its about my ex."- _you_ \- "You could say it was a big deal. I know it was, but I lost him." Stiles hands him the second beer, holding his hand out for the one Derek still has.

Derek quickly finishes it and hands it over. "I'm sorry." Derek says solemnly.

 _Shit_ , now he thinks the love of his life died. In a way though...it kind of did.

Stiles shakes his head trying not to let reality in. All he wants to do is fuck Derek ten ways from Sunday. So much lost time. "I'm sure you have songs like that." Stiles says trying to redirect his thoughts.

Derek shrugs. "Not really. I mean the few we do have the others wrote. I just sing them. I’ve only dated Kate, the one who sent me to the hospital." Derek says, opening his beer.

That actually hurts Stiles a little more than he realized it would. Obviously, he knew this was how Derek looked at his past relationships, but hearing it out loud was like a punch in the gut. There wasn't a Stiles, only Kate.

"Seems like something to write about." Stiles says halfway through his bottle already, needing to be piss drunk already. There is no such thing as too much. Not tonight. "Enough of the morbid talk." Stiles shifts his left leg landing between Derek's. "So it's established you don’t have a girlfriend." Stiles knows he's pushing. He decides if there is any chance he can get in Derek's pants, Derek's pants he will get into. There is a small voice scratching on a wall in the back of his mind, probably trying to tell him how bad of an idea this is, but he wholeheartedly ignores it.

Derek smiles. "Nope. You got a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?" Derek tests.

Stiles smiles, _ohh Derek, you sooo still dig me_. "Not really. Danny and I are just the benefit type."

Derek nods.

Stiles knows it gives the wrong impression, but he isn’t going to lie. Danny, his stylist, physical instructor, and computer genius who helps with basically everything, have been messing around for a little over a year. Danny knows Stiles will never really be emotionally available. Especially, since he had front row seats to the 'Sterek Show' as he and Lydia used to put it.

"So...are the others going to join us or?" Derek asks looking toward the door.

Stiles forgot that he had indicated they would all be hanging out. While Scott was stalling though he told Lydia he needed to do this on his own. If for no other reason than the fact he wouldn’t be distracted by their concerned glances, which would only put his nerves that much more on edge.

Stiles smiles. Not regretting his decision. "Nope. They were going to, but they had a lot to do and they said they would probably go to bed early tonight." 

Derek checks his phone and types out a message.

"Who are you texting?" Stiles asks, suddenly jealous.

Derek is _his_ tonight, everyone else can go suck a dick. Even Stiles, if he's lucky. His blood slowly starts making its way south.

Derek slips his phone back in his pocket. "Erica. She wants to know if I’m sleeping here or if she needs to come get me." 

"Do you want to?" Stiles asks nervously, he needs some kind of indication that their connection is still there. That Derek does still want him.  "Stay here, I mean?"

"I wouldn’t want to impose." Derek shrugs, and Stiles wants to cry, he is so happy.

Derek never stayed over unless he wanted to have sex, which was all the time. It wasn't until much later Derek stayed just _because_. So staying tonight would indicate that he did, in fact, want to bone Stiles.

Stiles was definitely down with that idea.

Stiles is crawling over Derek before he registers what he is doing, but he refuses to stop. _Physically_ cannot stop. Stiles needs this. Needs to feel Derek's stubble on his cheek, neck, everything. Needs the warmth of Derek's tongue heavy in his mouth. The press of Derek's hand on his waist. _All of it_.

Stiles is running his hands along Derek’s ribs making him flex, remembering just how riled up that would get him. Then Stiles' mouth is pressing hard against Derek's, no longer able to resist. It’s bitter sweet. He's finally kissing Derek, but its not _his_ Derek. This is the thousandth kiss for Stiles, but this is the first for Derek.

Derek opens his mouth letting Stiles in and Stiles takes it. If there was any thought of stopping it was gone in that single action.

Stiles kisses him slow and desperate. Like his life depends on it and it kind of does.

Derek places his hands on the small of his back and instant boner.

Stiles moans pulling his knees up to straddle Derek’s waist. He needs Derek inside of him, all over him. He just needs Derek. But because he knows its all new for Derek he isn't going to push too hard. This is more than he could ask for anyway.

Stiles has his fingers tangled in Derek's hair, not necessarily tugging.

Derek is easily scared away if he doesn’t feel like he has enough control. Although, Stiles remembers, sometimes Derek likes to give up control.

That has Stiles rotating his hips. Trying to relieve the full body tingle he is experiencing.

"No." Derek says in the middle of a kiss.

Stiles would be lying if that didn’t break his heart all over again. Did Derek think he was taking advantage? Was he?

Stiles lifts his head, pupils blown wide in the heat of the moment and searing panic.

There is still desire in Derek's eyes though, mixed with confusion... Stiles can work with that.

"Please." Stiles drops his head mouthing at Derek's neck, another one of Derek’s spots, pulling a moan from Derek's chest and sending a direct line of pleasure to his dick. Stiles can feel Derek’s arousal.  Stiles' own is pressed right up against it. "Please. I _need_ this." Stiles grinds down relentlessly, too late to turn back now. There is no guarantee that he will ever see Derek again. Stiles will take as much as he can get.

Derek grinds up into Stiles wrapping his hands around Stiles head pulling him in for another kiss.

Stiles melts. He never thought he would have those forceful hands on him again.

Derek has his hands in Stiles hair pulling and rubbing circles behind his ears with his thumbs.

Stiles never thought he'd have that again. The gentle press to the sides of his head. He knows any second now, he is going to wake up.

Derek's teeth are scraping against his mouth, pulling moan after moan from Stiles.

He’s far past the point of no return.

Stiles develops a rhythm, grinding down on Derek's lap, needing as much friction as he can get. Then without thinking, he slips his long fingers underneath Derek’s shirt skirting across his ribs sending him spasming, again. That is Derek's spot, and a trigger for Stiles, in the best kind of way. Stiles is utterly lost to any kind of thought process besides ' _derek derek derek derek derek'_.

When Stiles fingers slip below his pants line though...  Derek pushes Stiles up.

"I'm sorry I can’t." Derek pants.

"Why?" Stiles asks, looking down at Derek desperately, it can’t already be over. He needs more. _Honestly_ , it’s not like anything would ever be enough.

Derek looks torn. "I need to tell you something."

Stiles holds his breath. Anything could come out of Derek's mouth but he only wants to hear one. "I’m signing with Argent records tomorrow with Kate and I might be your opening act for tour. It would be unprofessional."

Stiles sits all the way up, fear and anger taking over. _No fucking way! How dare she?_ _She is going to ruin him! No!_   "Have you already signed the contract?" Stiles asks, barely able to hear his own voice over the screaming in his head. This is bad. This is very bad.

"N-no..but we sign tomorrow." Derek says.

Thank god. There's still time for Stiles to fix this.

"Don’t-don’t do it." Stiles says, standing up. He adjusts himself, boner still straining against his zipper, and fills a glass of water, downing the glass as quickly as possible. He needs sobriety now so he can come up with a plan.

Derek sits up. "I’m not missing out on the first real chance we have to get signed just so I can sleep with you." Derek says spitefully. "I'm sorry."

Stiles flips to stare at him. _Ouch_. "That's not even…” Stiles struggles for words, “you could be my opening act, hell my manager and I would sleep with you every single second of everyday if I could!" Stiles shouts. Hell, Derek had been his managers boyfriend and that’s exactly what he did. "That's not the point. You can't sign that contract." Then everything is over.

Derek stands up joining him. He’s inches away. "Promise?"

Stiles inhales quickly, knowing what will come next. He knows that tone of voice. That predatory look.

Derek captures his lips again and Stiles sobs.

Derek pushes him against one of the trailer walls, working his mouth down his neck.

Everything in Stiles body is screaming ' _yes! Derek, yes, finally, Derek, Jesus Christ, YES!_ ' Telling him to wrap his legs around Derek and let him carry him to the bed, but Stiles brain decides to grow a fucking conscience and starts freaking out. Stiles can’t do this. He would be no better than Kate. He'd be taking advantage. _Fuck_.

"Stop. Stop. Derek. I can’t. Please." Stiles cries unable to contain his pain any longer.

Derek's head flies up, still holding Stiles against the wall. Derek looks like he wants to castrate himself and Stiles just wants to kiss the worry away.

"Why? I thought..." Derek asks broken.

Stiles takes a slow breath, eyes locked with Derek’s, trying to salvage the situation. "You don't even know me. You're right. It would be in appropriate."

Derek slowly lets him go and Stiles wants to impersonate a Spider Monkey and latch onto Derek forever, just cling for dear life. But he has a plan to come up with. "Text Erica."

Derek nods pulling out his phone.

Stiles needs to talk to the band, Allison, maybe cry a little.

Derek needs to go home.

"I can pick another band. Sorry I shouldn't have-"

"No, that’s not the point." Stiles huffs. He pushes out of the trailer lighting a cigarette, everything is so fucked. His life is just one big cosmic joke and Derek is the fucking punch line.

Derek steps out lighting his own and they don't speak. Both of their eyes drifting, occasionally landing on each other.

Stiles is trying to formulate a plan.

"Almost here." Derek waves the phone in the air. "I really am sorry. I'll pick another band." Derek ducks his head, walking away.

"Derek." Stiles stares at his feet shouting internally for letting Derek walk away. "You have my full blessing to open...just. Don’t. Sign. The contract." Stiles turns and walks back into his trailer, shutting the door and calling Lydia instantly.

"Stiles, is everything okay?" She asks concern written in her voice.

"No. Yea, but no. Can you get over here?" He asks in a rush.

She affirms then hangs up.

Stiles is pacing.

The door swings open and in walks Lydia with Isaac in tow. "What's going on?"

Stiles tries to compose himself. But mostly fails. Go figure. "Derek was here because he is in a band-a fucking _band_ guys- and it's so dumb! Were at the disco! And Were like Werewolf because apparently one of the girls in the band thinks he PMS's which - we all know that. But still. Dumb. And they were here because, apparently, Kate is getting ready to sign them! Can you fucking believe it?! That _bitch_! She will never be finished until she completely destroys him! And me. You know she is doing this because she wants to get back at me. Just to show me how fucking much she owns me and now Derek too! This is horse shit! We were making out-"

"You made out?" Scott asked stunned, and when the hell did he show up?

Stiles keeps going like Scott didn’t say anything pacing a streak in his trailer. "We were fucking- ugh-well not fucking- but it was hott and then he pushed me away because he was afraid it would be unprofessional to have sex with me, since he is about to be our opening act! Which is fucking _retarded_. First of all, this is the music industry. Everyone sleeps with everyone. Second, he was our managers fucking boyfriend and I fucked the shit out of him. _All the time_. Like literally, every spare moment we- anyway." Stiles shakes his head. "I sent him home because I was afraid I'd let something like this slip. And he kept saying he would choose another band.. so apparently, Kate gave him a list with our names on it.. fucking _cunt_. Ugh! I told him that wasn’t the problem. I just told him not to sign the contract." He finally breathes and falls down on to the couch. "Now help me. What do I do?"

The three of them just stare at him with mixed emotions of confusion, pity, more confusion, but Lydia looks focused.

Stiles is so glad she is his best friend.

Don’t ever tell Scott though.

 

* * *

 

Allison hadn’t answered her phone all morning so Stiles is now taking things into his own hands to try and bide some more time.

Kate was not happy, to say the least, to come in and find ‘Home Wrecker’ Stiles in her perfect little office. Most commonly when he was in her office, he was there to fuck some shit up because he was having a particularly bad day himself. Today was different though.

"Stiles. Here to break more paperweights?" Kate asks teasingly from the doorway.

"Not necessarily. What are you doing?" He asks knowing she would know damn well what he meant.

She smiles and walks over to her desk swiping for dust with a finger. "Business. As usual."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean." He's trying his hardest to keep his cool even though he wants to gauge her eyes out.

"I don't think I do." She grins knowingly, dropping down into her desk chair crossing her legs.

"Kate.” He takes a deep breath trying to steady himself. “I understand that you are still angry about what he and I did to you. But is this really necessary?" His grip at remaining calm is fading fast.

"Ohhh, you're here to talk about Derek!" She says like she had no idea this whole time. "And that is your business, how? I mean he doesn't even remember you. Maybe you weren't as important as you thought." She pouts at him, and _wow_ that was a low hit. "Maybe you weren't as good in bed as you thought, either." She gives him an assessing once over and his cool vanishes.

"Jesus, Kate! You can’t do this!" Stiles yells. He tried nice. That was stupid. Since when has Kate ever been kind?

"It’s just business, Stiles." She says coolly.

His brain short circuits. He wants to say so much, but he mostly just wants her to fucking _admit_ this is about revenge more than anything.

"Don’t you fucking dare. This is about something else, and you know it!" He manages to spit.

"Maybe." She says sarcastically.

_Thank you!_

"Oh my god. So he cheated on you! Move the fuck on!" He yells throwing his hands down on her desk and she grabs him by the collar nearly choking him.

"Don’t tell me what to do, you little shit! I _own_ you!" She shouts with a thumb nail digging into his jugular.

"Just leave him alone." Stiles says much quieter, trying not to allow said nail to draw blood.

They both have been down this road many times and it always ends in Stiles bleeding.

"He’s suffered enough, and you fucking know it." He says glaring holes through her skull.

She clicks her tongue. "Maybe this isn't even about him. Maybe I'm doing this because I know how much you care. Did you think about that?"

"You already have me! Don’t take it out on him! I’m not going anywhere." Stiles is almost crying now. He hates that she owns the band. That they are stuck in a never ending contract. "You are using his need to get signed as a way to get back at me? To make me watch you lock down another victim to puppeteer for decades to come?"

She just wants to fucking play with both of them. How sadistic can one be?

"Yes." She says happily. "It helps me sleep at night."

Stiles lets out a guttural groan. Finally, wrenching her hand off his neck. Backing up, straightening himself out, trying to decide his next move. He can’t reason with her. He just needs to get to Allison before Derek gets to Kate to sign the contract.

"Puppeteer?"

Stiles head flashes up in fear. Derek's already here. Shit.

"Oh, ignore him.” She says easily flicking her wrist over her shoulder. “He’s still mad at me for something that happened a long time ago. It's ancient history right, Stiles?" She smiles evilly at Stiles.

He growls at her. He will destroy her if it's the last thing he does. It will be slow and painful. Yes. Excruciatingly slow.

"Well I came to sign the contract...but-" Derek says calmly. Probably over heard more of the conversation than he is letting on.

Fucking Jackass!

"Derek! Puppeteer? Do you not know what that is? You the puppet. Her the _bitch_ pulling your strings. Are you stupid?" Stiles yells waving his hands dramatically in the air for impact. Who still tries to sign a contract when they hear the word puppeteer? Other than an actual puppeteer.

"I have to do what I have to do for the band." Derek looks down, avoiding Stiles eyes, fucking martyr. "If we don't tour we don't get publicity."

Ok. Publicity. He can take care of that. If he can just get ahold of Allison. Freaking Allison.

Kate smiles, pulling out the contract.

Derek tries not to look at either of them.

"Okay." Stiles says calmly.

When Derek goes to pick up the pen Stiles spills Kate's coffee all over her desk ruining the contract. "Oh shit, guess you will have to print another one." He smiles happily. That should buy him some time.

"You think that is going to help anything? I'll have another in 30 minutes time." She chuckles.

"That’s all the time I need." He grabs Derek by the arm sprinting out of the room. Allison better be in her god damn office, or so help her, God!

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Derek grunts as Stiles drags him into an open elevator.

"Saving you." Stiles says punching the button for the basement. "You really are the biggest Jackass I have ever met." He pauses looking Derek in the eye. "And I am like the biggest Jackass, ask anyone! But I relent my crown to you. Congratu-fuckin-lations." Stiles sighs watching the numbers above the door descend. You would think the brain damage would have made him a little less hard headed. But noooo just made everything worse. Jesus. 

Seriously, could the elevator be any slower?

"I’m sorry." Derek says looking Stiles in the eyes. His stare is loaded and Stiles knows that look. But now is not the time, nor the place to try and hash that out.

"Forget about it. Right now we are fixing this shit situation. We can talk later." Yes. They can talk later. Assuming Allison is in her office. If Derek signs Kate’s contract, Stiles knows without a doubt that Kate will make sure to never allow the two of them to ever be in the same room together, hell, on the same continent.

The door opens and Derek nods letting Stiles go ahead of him to lead the way.

Stiles leads them into an old dusty office where Allison is typing away at an old computer. "Allison! Thank God you are here." Stiles yells. Why couldn't she answer her damn phone?

"Stiles...Derek?" She looks between them confused.

Stiles shakes his head. _No, Allison, we are not back together. Your aunt ruined him. Jesus. Focus_. "We need your help."

Allison nods.

"Derek is about to sign away his life...to Kate."

"Nooo." She says disbelieving. "Derek...you're in a band?"

Derek nods.

Stiles knows by the look on his face he is torn between running and pulling his hair out with confusion.

"Not the point!" Stiles slams his hand down, trying to speed up the situation before Derek can run. "Now, remember that contract we wrote up when Kate was threatening to hire that circus act to open my show?"

"Stiles they weren't that bad..." She rolls her eyes.

"Again, not the point! Do you still have it?"

She digs through an old box on the wall humming to herself.

"Jesus, we only have 20 minutes!"

She flips him off.

_Fuck you too, Allison._

"Stiles..I said I could choose another band to open for..." Derek says quietly.

"Ohmygod! Again, not the fucking point!" He yells and Derek puts his hands up in surrender.

Allison pulls it out. "Now what?"

"Fill it out with Were At the Disco. Were like Werewolf." Stiles says quickly, trying to get things under control.

"There's an exclamation point after Were..." Derek adds quietly and Stiles nods tapping the paper so Allison will write it correctly.

"You _are_ still a notary right?"

Allison nods.

"Good. Derek sign."

Derek hesitates.

"Derek. Trust me." Stiles pleads handing him the pen. They are running out of time.

Allison clears her throat. "Basically, it's a contract stating that Fallout Shelter has the right to choose their own opening acts and they do not have to be affiliated with Argent records." She points where to sign.

"Its better than any contract you are going to sign." Stiles says realizing that of course Derek is freaking out about a contract he hasn't read. "My band will help get you started and you won't owe us anything. Now sign the fucking thing!"

Derek looks between the two of them and Stiles can see he is on the cusp of trusting them.

"Fucking do it!"

Derek slowly signs on the dotted line.

Stiles grabs the pen scratching his name down below it, then Allison does the same.

"What now?" Derek asks and Allison is already out of the office making a dash for the elevator.

"She's taking it to Chris. Her dad. To make it official." Stiles says falling into a chair. "Hope she's quicker than Kate." His heart is finally slowing down. Thank, God.

"I am so confused." Derek rubs his forehead. 

Stiles stands up patting his arm. Poor thing. "Come on. I don’t know about you but I could definitely use a drink." Stiles wants to do and say more. To explain. But he can’t without sounding like a crazy person. So drinks it is.

They head out along the dark hallway. The elevator dings and out walks Kate. Because obviously. Ugh. Stiles hates his life.

"Ah, Derek honey, I've got a new contract waiting up in my office."

Derek looks to Stiles but all he can do is flail. He doesn’t know if Allison has cornered Chris yet. He didnt think this far ahead.

"I knew I'd find you down here. Not a very good hiding spot, Stiles."

"Well uhh Kate... that's great!" Stiles laughs trying to buy some more time. "Ha, that rhymed! I'm a poet and I didn’t even know it!" He laughs again because Kate looks murderous. "You think I’m a little shit! But hey look at me, I can't quit. "

Derek rolls his eyes and Kate grabs Derek's hand, pulling him into the elevator. Derek looks to Stiles for help but Stiles can only join them shrugging. He can’t safely say anything yet. Not when they are this close to being in the clear.

The elevator shifts, lifting them and Stiles pretends to lose his balance knocking them apart. Not only because Derek looks miserable, but because Stiles can’t stand to see her even breathe the same air as Derek. When Stiles meets his eyes as Kate curses at him, Stiles winks, then looks at Derek's now free hand.

Derek gives him a grin silently thanking him.

Good. He understood.

Kate rattles on about how Stiles needs to go home and play with himself, and to stop interfering with Derek's future, and that there’s no point of sticking around to ruin another copy because she printed extra. Blah blah blah.

Stiles ignores her.

When the elevator dings and they step out onto Kate's floor, Chris walks over. "Derek! Congratulations! Its going to be busy year for you."

Kate smiles. "Good to see you big brother. We are just heading to sign the contract now."

Derek turns to Stiles for some kind of sign and Stiles points to Allison who is walking over to join them. It’s all done. They are in the clear.

Stiles can finally breathe again.

"Oh? He hasn’t already?” Chris asks with feigned innocence. “Then what's on my desk?" He says scrunching his eyebrows together. Raising one smiling as Allison joins him.

It takes nearly a full minute for Kate to realize that they all just pulled one over on her. "What did you do?" She turns on Derek.

Stiles answers, she wants to blame this on Derek, and she couldn’t be any more off base. "Oh don't blame him. He was just doing what he had to for the band, right Derek?" Stiles props an elbow on Derek's shoulder smirking. The warmth momentarily distracting him. He’s helping Derek. He has to keep that in mind. He has to build up a stronger wall to keep from fucking up and letting something slip in front of Derek.

"Right. We will get all the publicity that we need." Derek smiles pressing into Stiles.

Stiles heart stutters. _Come on wall. Build the fuck up._

"Stiles pulled up a contract with Allison that I approved last year. Stiles has the right to choose his own opening act and they do not have to be with our label. Stiles has the right to sign any act for his tour." Chris twists his face pointing a questioning finger at Kate. "That was part of your contract you wrote for Fallout right?"

You go, Chris Argent.

Kate groans in frustration. "Since when is she in any kind of position to handle contracts?" She points at Allison who looks up at her father.

"Since I promoted her. It’s only right since she is to take my place one day." Chris says wrapping Allison in a hug.

_That's my girl!_

"No. I am president when you retire." Kate seethes.

"Not necessarily.  We need someone to not only run the label, but _be_ the label. Not someone who enjoys power trips and pulls up contracts that a monkey could have written better." Chris lowers his eye brows... "Seriously? Thats was the best you could do?"

Kate storms off.

"This job isn't about revenge Kate!" Chris gets it.

They all stand there exchanging looks, approving their little mission. Stiles, Allison, and Chris know about what all happened. And they have both been on Stiles' side from day one.

"Well, Derek, I hope you don’t mind but part of that contract made me your manager..." Allison says happily.

Derek looks to Stiles and Chris for any kind of sign that this might be a bad thing, but they only smile, he will be in good hands. "My uncle Peter is kind of already my manager."

Ugh. Stiles cannot stand Peter. 

"I know. We already spoke to him. He and I will take care of you." She hugs Derek and Stiles shakes Chris's hand thanking him for being so great.

"You're in good hands, Derek." Chris nods adjusting his jacket. "Now. Go enjoy yourself while you still can before the tour, and if you need anything just let someone know."

"Thank you, sir." Derek smiles and they all wave as Chris makes his way back to his office.

Stiles exhales loudly. "So... how about those drinks?"

"Can't."  Allison sighs. "I have a lot to do to get ready for this tour."

Stiles hugs her. "Okay. Thanks Al, you are the best. Literally."

She even helped cover for them a few times before Kate knew what was going on.

They exchange goodbyes and Derek follows Stiles down to the garage. They eventually get to Derek's truck.

Stiles suddenly needs to get away, but ensure that Derek will see him later. "So...Scott’s throwing this party tonight. You can come if you want?" Stiles twists his foot, the party not having actually been planned yet. _Sorry, Scott._ "We can have a few drinks. I'll even keep my hands to myself." Stiles chuckles, hands in the air. He doesn’t want Derek to think he is only interested in sex. "You can bring your friends." Stiles really wants to meet them.

"Yea. Sure. Where?" Derek nods scratching his head.

 _Fucker’s thinking about sex_.

Derek needs to stop doing that or Stiles won’t be able to control himself.

"Uhh.. at this old loft he bought a long time ago.” Stiles clears his throat trying to redirect his thoughts. “He kinda likes to paint... anyway. I can text you directions. Its at 9." Stiles says, pulling out his phone. He still has Derek's number. That is, if its the same one. Knowing Derek it probably is. If it ain't broke don’t fix it. And if it is broke...Fuck it. Stiles smirks at his little joke.

"Don’t you need my number?" Derek raises an eyebrow.

Stiles throws an arm out. "Duh! And that’s why this is the part where you give it to me, Jackass." Stiles wiggles the phone in his hand. "Or I could just get it from my manager." Stiles smirks, Allison has her ways.

"And who’s your manager?"

"Little miss future president up there." Stiles smiles fondly.

"Allison?" Derek asks, dumb founded. "If she's so powerful why is she working in the basement?"

Stiles leans against the truck. "Well... Kate used to be my manager but we kind of had a falling out." _I fucked her boyfriend... a lot._ She started acting really unprofessional. "Allison found a loophole in my contract and made a case to Chris. It wasn't easy for him to refuse. Allison was already moved down to the basement because she was working under Kate and Kate does what she wants. So Kate banished her pretty much. Allison was reinstated but she decided to stay down there. She likes it and it keeps her off of the witches radar." That might have been his idea actually. If Allison is off the radar so is he.

Derek is about to respond when his phone goes off. He answers.

"Derek, oh my God. Is it true?" Erica screams and Stiles smiles hearing her. Peter must have told the rest of the band already.

"Yes, Erica we are opening for Fallout Shelter this year. So get ready-"

"We are going on touuuuurrrr!" She screams and Derek jerks the phone away from his face. "So does this mean you and singer boy made up? Any new hickeys? I want all the details." She rushes. Stiles blushes and giggles turning away rubbing at his neck. He’s going to like her, he can already tell.

Derek blushes too.

Stiles loses her side of the conversation and can only hear Derek's.

"Yes.- No.- You are about to get uninvited. ---Scott is throwing a party. --- Yes the drummer.- Just be ready." He hangs up on her. "Sorry." He mutters to Stiles.

Stiles turns around red faced. "It’s cool. I’m glad we made up. Kinda sad there were no more hickeys though." _Shit. Stupid mouth. Shut the fuck up. Now._

Derek laughs, thank God. "About that drink..."

Stiles runs a hand through his hair. "Yea about that... I uhh.. have something I have to do." _I have to go find a deep dark hole and cry for a decade because seriously I am not ready for this shit._ "But I'll see you at the party tonight, right?" Stiles points finger guns at Derek as he walks off grinning, trying not to let his weakness show. He doesn’t wait for Derek to answer and just short of runs away.

 

* * *

 

Stiles makes it back to Scott’s loft without breaking down on the road in a sobbing mess.

When he makes it up to the loft, Scott opens the door quickly looking at Stiles like he's physically ill. "Stiles, bud, are you okay? Did everything work? Did he sign the contract? Our contract?"

Stiles puts a hand up to shut his friend up and works his way around him. _Shit_. He runs for the bathroom.

No wonder he looked ill, considering the contents of the toilet.

Stiles leans back against the tub and Scott is standing in the doorway nose turned up.

"You okay? Talk to me." Scott leans forward and flushes the toilet and wets a rag.

Stiles can't really see at this point. He's in a dream like state and not the good kind.

Scott drags the rag across Stiles' forehead and yes, God, that feels good.

Stiles reaches up and grabs his best friends hand. They make eye contact and Scott makes his _'I know everything sucks, but at least you have me_ ' face. Then he drops down next to Stiles and pulls him into his lap wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

"You're the best, Scotty." Stiles croaks.

"I know." Scott replies, rubbing the rag across Stiles' head some more. "You going to tell me what happened?"

Stiles braces himself, no longer feeling sick, just mentally exhausted. He's an artist not an actor. And all of this pretending to not know Derek, but actually knowing him, and his sex spots that get him going, and that he has a birthmark on the inside of his right ass cheek, and that forks freak him out occasionally because his sister Cora stabbed him with one once when he was a kid over cheesecake. No. He's not supposed to know any of this. But he does. And it’s killing him.

"He signed our contract. And then I stressed out and had to get away from him. But uhmm I kind of invited him to a party." Stiles finally says digging his head back deeper into his friend's chest.

"Oh cool! What party?" Scott asks happily. He’s always ready for a party.

Stiles grins, glad Scott can't see his face. "Uhmm your party... here..." Stiles giggles a weird giggle and winces. Throat a little raw from all the stomach acid.

"Stiiiless.." Scott groans. Then huffs resigning to his pathetic friend. 

 _Thanks by the way_.

"What time?" Scott grumbles defeated, already giving in.

"9. Sorry." Stiles rubs at his mouth, making sure vomit isn't dripping down his chin because _eww_.

"Its okay." Scott breathes. Patting Stiles shoulder. "Besides.. when have I ever turned down a party?" Scott hops up, then helps Stiles to his feet. "Just wish I had more than 8 hours to plan it." He says narrowing his eyes at Stiles.

"Please. I’ve seen you plan a party in 29 minutes flat." Stiles grins as encouragingly as possible in his weakened state.

Scott smiles. "True. Let’s get you cleaned up and rested." Scott helps him wash his face and mouth then deposits him in his bedroom in the back of the loft, already on the phone with a DJ. Scott really is a great friend.

Stiles feels ridiculous for needing so much help, but give him a break. The last 24 hours have been a lot to process.

The party is planned in under an hour giving everyone 7 hours to invite as many people as they can.

 

* * *

 

The party is in full swing. Has been since about 8:30. Oddly enough most of Scott's friends don’t believe in being fashionably late. Especially, if there is alcohol involved.

Stiles would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little disappointed that Derek hadn't shown up yet. It almost being 10 and all.

Stiles decided to stick to beer to try to keep his head straight so a) he doesn't make an ass of himself, especially in front of Derek’s friends and b) so he doesn’t say something stupid to Derek like _'hey remember me? We used to be a thing, in love, eternal, but then you got brain damage, and I pussed out and made your family pretend like I never existed, but now you just walked back into my life again and I regret everything. Love me again!'_ Yea... that wouldn’t be good. And okay.. maybe Stiles has had a decent amount of beer already. Sue him.

Lydia is walking around like the queen she is, solidifying connections.

Isaac is flirting off in a corner with a group of girls.

Scott is doing body shots, which is no surprise at all to anyone. Friggin’ Scott and parties.

Finally, Stiles sees Derek walk through the entrance to the loft and Stiles can’t breathe, but he's not sure his heart is working at all.

Ok, never mind.. all good.

Stiles makes his way toward Derek, taking in the group around him. Stiles laughs to himself seeing that they all match. Derek.. Matching.. fucking priceless. That blue shirt though? Nnnf. _Yes, please._

"Hey Derek glad you could make it!" Stiles smiles, looking at Derek's friends. "You must be Erica." He smiles at the bombshell blonde giving her a hug versus the handshake she was offering. Then he whispers in her ear. "Just so we are clear, we did makeup, and unfortunately there are no more hickeys." He crosses his fingers that she is as cool as she sounded on the phone.

She pulls back stunned for a moment then laughs. "Ohh, I am going to like you!"

_Fucking A!_

Stiles laughs. "Now, which of you is Jackson?"

Jackson puts his hand out giving a smirk.

Stiles is about to say something to test the waters when the larger man puts his hand out next.

"Boyd. Thanks for helping us out today. Derek told us about what you did."

_Well aren't you PR ready?_

Stiles blushes looking at Derek. "Well uhh yea... I couldn’t let Kate do that to him..." _shit, fuck, say something smart!_ "Uhmm what she did to me.. errr.." _good job, Stilinski, you fucking spaz!_   Stiles pulls his eyes away. "Anyway! Drinks are on me. Enjoy yourselves!" Stiles skitters away. _What the actual fuck?_

Stiles locates himself another beer and runs to the bathroom to get a grip on himself. _Why is this so hard? Just be cool._

He makes his way back out to the party and spots Derek off to the side, cup in hand. _Creeper_. Stiles makes his way over.

"So... any thoughts?" Stiles asks.

Derek smiles a greeting. "Nice party. Thanks for inviting us." He sips his drink.

"You're adorable, you know that? So modest and polite." Stiles mocks, where's the Derek that says dirty things only for Stiles to hear? The Derek that pushes him into dark corners and shows him just how much he missed him the past few hours? Ok, so maybe he's losing touch on reality. "You're one of us now!" Stiles pats him on the back squeezing his neck. "You have a lot to get used to." Because what else is he going to say? He’s gotta play at being a stranger, remember?

Derek just stands there grimacing.

"Dude! Relax, will ya?" Stiles laughs flailing.

"Sorry."

"Jesus." Stiles breathes. "You weren't kidding when you said you were only doing this for them."Stilese takes a swig from his beer giving Derek an assessing look. _Derek the fucking Martyr, ladies and gents!_

Erica bursts out of no where. "Oh my God, is that Kesha?! You hired Kesha to play at your party?"

Kesha was getting ready to perform.

"No." Stiles laughs. Just now realizing how weird their parties look to first timers.

"Don't lie! She's up there right now!" Erica slugs him in the shoulder, which _ow_. "Why didn't you tell us you were so popular?"

Stiles is laughing and Isaac comes over.

"Us? Popular? Who's spreading rumors now?" Isaac smiles holding his hand out. "Isaac Lahey, guitarist. Welcome to the hardest year of your life."

"And probably the drunkest!" Scott laughs, nearly knocking the group over.

Derek reaches out managing to hold Scott upright.

Stiles is stunned for a second remembering all the times Derek held Scott up when he was drunk before.

They all laugh at how Scott is already trashed and Stiles joins in trying to compose himself.

"I'd say don’t listen to them but..." Stiles breaks back in, gaining the groups attention. "It’s definitely going to be an experience. And Erica?"

Erica pulls her eyes away from Isaac.

"We really didn’t hire Kesha."

She looks like she is going to argue.

"Seriously. We hire a DJ and have a stage set up incase anyone wants to perform."

They all stand in silence for a moment and Erica looks visibly less impressed. Which, fine. What they do is better than hiring another lower artist and being pretentious. Just no.

Now Lydia walks up, Boyd and Jackson in tow. "Some artists like it. They can try out new songs, do a cover, or just sing without worrying about fans."

"It’s like a drunken jam session, bros!" Scott slurs on Derek’s shoulder, and there might actually be some drool.

Stiles laughs, knowing Scott is not holding his weight at all. Scott knows, all too well, that Derek can carry him fireman style if he has to. "Alright buddy. Let’s get you some water and a soft spot to sit." Stiles shifts the weight from Derek to himself before Scott can say anything stupid.

"Kayy" Scott grins, his eyes not even really open.

Stiles drags him away to his bed room.

"I’m glad Derek’s here, man. It was nice knowing I wasn’t going to fall on my ass." Scott giggles.

"Yea, I bet." Stiles groans grabbing a bottle of water out of the mini fridge beside Scotts bed. "Just don’t say that to him. At least anything implying you already know him. He has no idea who we are-"

"Mpliying" Scott murmurs. "Ply-ing. Mmm-p-ling." Scott laughs wasted.

Stiles shakes his head and lays his friend down.

"Drink this. All of this." Stiles shakes the bottle in his friends face, who gives a serious look, and takes the bottle from him. "Alright, I am going back out there. When you can stand on your own come find me." Stiles rubs his friends head. If Allison were here he wouldn't have drank this much, but Allison has a lot to get planned for the tour right now. "Or sleep. I'll keep checking on you, bro."

Scott is already snoring before Stiles has made it out of the room.

Stiles makes his way back to the group after grabbing another beer and notices their faces. "Whoa.. why is everyone pouting at Derek?" _What did they do? Did they tell him?_ Stiles starts to panic when Derek cuts in.

"Fine." Derek storms off.

"What the hell just happened?" Stiles asks after they are out of earshot.

Lydia pops a shoulder up. "Nothing. Just guilt tripped Derek and the band to perform a song."

Stiles mouth goes dry. "A song? They are going to--" he can't form a sentence to save his life. It still hasn't sunk in that Derek is in a band and is actually going to be performing all year with them on tour.

"Yes. A song. Now do you want to go introduce them? Or should I?" Lydia asks and Isaac pats him on the shoulder.  "I mean I kinda figure you should pop his cherry since you have popped a few of his others up until now..." She smirks and Isaac shakes his head at her.

Stiles nods and heads toward Derek, trying not to think of his previously devoured cherries.

On his way over he can tell that Derek is freaking out. Which is understandable.  Dude has stage fright.  Like, can hardly pee in front of anyone, stage fright. "You look like you are about to be sick." Stiles says once he finally approaches the small group.

"No." Derek instantly denies.

Stiles puts his hand on Derek's face, soothingly running it down his neck and stopping over his chest. "You got this. Chris listened to your Demo. He would have torn up the contract if you weren't good enough. Now. Take a breath."

Derek does and so do the others.

Stiles knows that was intimate but he knows what Derek needs. He’s actually a pro in that particular area. "Okay! Here we go. You know what you are going to sing?"

They all nod.

"Okay...I'll go up and introduce you guys. But you are going to have to say something. You aren't Beyonce.. you can't just sing and leave."

They all look at each other mentally forcing the job on any one else. _Great_.

The song wraps up and Stiles straightens his button up, bounding up the stairs as Kesha exits. They exchange a hug and a few words, they never get to hang out anymore, especially with her in rehab trying to get a hold on her eating disorder. Her manager was a piece of shit who insisted she throw up or do drugs to maintain a ‘skinny look’. _Fucking bastard_. She is literally the sweetest person he has ever met. She did not deserve how he treated her.

She makes her way down the steps eyeing Derek and Boyd then saunters away.

Stiles shoots up the stairs. "How are we doing tonight?!" He shouts at the party and they all hold their drinks up hollering. "Good, good, keep it up!" He puts his own beer out. "Now listen. We just signed a new band, totally _unknown_ , to open for us this year! I think you are going to like them." _They better fucking like them._ "Quite a bit of eye candy. Now give a warm welcome to the new additions to our family!"

They all cheer and Stiles holds his arm out inviting them up.

"Shit! Almost forgot! Their name is Were! At The Disco. Were like werewolf. I know, I thought the same thing, but it’s a whole thing -again cheers to Were! At The Disco!"

Everyone shouts and Stiles is thankful their friends are all so cool.

Stiles pats Derek on the back as they walk up and he exits. They take their places.

"Bare with us guys. We weren't aware of Fallout's impromptu performances." Derek says and Stiles can’t believe how calm he sounds. Stiles is even freaking out for him!

The band is tuning their instruments a little more carefully than needed so Derek stalls. "I’m Derek. That’s Erica, Jackson, and big guy back there is Boyd."

They all clap.

"Thank you guys for being so patient." Derek looks around annoyed, motioning for Jackson to hurry the fuck up. "Sorry. He just doesn't want to sing the song we chose."

Erica joins in. "It's about his mom."

This earns a laugh from the audience and a frown from Jackson. 

"Come on! They don’t have all night! Lets go!"

Stiles can’t wait to hear this song. He’s made his way back to the bar and is standing next to Lydia.

Jackson grunts. "Fine. And in case you all are curious? My mom _loves_ this song." Jackson rolls his eyes violently.

Stiles plans to get the story behind this song as soon as possible.

Derek nods to the group and Erica starts them off. " _[Climbing out the back door, didn't leave a mark](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-udVKmv6fZg)_. _No one knows it's you Miss Jackson. Found another victim, But no one's gonna find Miss Jackson, Jackson, Jackson."_

And damn, gurl! Erica can sing _._

Derek's eyes finds Stiles and he can see Derek take a deep breath.

_Come on big boy. You can do this._

_"You put a sour little flavor in my mouth now. You move in circles hoping no one's gonna find out. But we're so lucky, Kiss the ring and let 'em bow down. Looking for the time of your life."_

Stiles has lost the ability to keep his mouth shut. Jesus christ.

Derek’s voice is like butter. But rough. And oh my God. Here comes a musically induced boner.

 _"A pretty picture but the scenery is so loud. A face like heaven catching lighting in your nightgown. But back away from the water, babe, you might drown- The party isn't over tonight."_  

Jackson is visibly irritated at the lyrics of the song.

Stiles laughs, already picking up on how Mrs. Jackson must have a reputation.

 _"He-eyy."_ Jackson sings, flashing his pretty boy smirk.

 _"Where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?"_ Derek yells.

Stiles is blushing and Lydia is shaking Stiles arm. Stiles actually forgot she was there.

_"He-eyy."_

Stiles can see the moment Derek starts to relax. He puts his hands above his head clapping. The band follows suit, having a instrumental break, and the party joins in automatically no questions asked. _"Out the back door, Goddamn, But I love her anyway. I love her anyway. I love her anyway. Out the back door, Goddamn, But I love her anyway."_  They all sing.

 _"Miss Jackson-Miss Jackson-Miss Jackson-Are you nasty?"_   Derek grips the mic flexing his arms cheaply.

_Oh yes. More of that please. Thank you._

_"_ _Miss Jackson-Miss Jackson-Miss Jackson-Are you nasty?"_  

The crowd starts dancing.

 _"I love her anyway."_  Derek winks at Lydia and Stiles, and Stiles is dead. This is what death feels like. 

 _"Ohhhh"_ Jackson sings.

 _"Where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?"_   Derek's eyes keep going back to Stiles who is smiling like an idiot, he knows that for sure. Because its either that or drool. Smile it is.

 _"Way down 'til the fire finally dies out. You've got 'em wrapped around your finger, Watch 'em fall down. There's something beautiful and tragic in the fallout. Let me say it one more time."_  Isn’t that ironic? Fucking, tragic alright.

They all sing, including the audience, songs pretty catchy and Derek does his best to work the stage walking back and forth. Flexing his arms subtly while holding the microphone.  He even grabs at his stomach when he sings louder than normal.  

Stiles is moments away from embarrassing himself like a teenage boy in the front of his pants.

Erica takes back over. " _Climbing out the back door, didn't leave a mark. No one knows it's you Miss Jackson. Found another victim, But no one's gonna find Miss Jackson, Jackson, Jackson."_  

Bitch is good. Seriously. 

 _"I love her anyway!"_   Derek yells kicking his leg out.

And no one has to know that Stiles takes that as directed directly at him because he was paying more attention to Erica and not Derek.

Derek gets more into it rocking his body a little bit. " _Miss Jackson-Miss Jackson-Miss Jackson-Are you nasty?"_

Every one in the room sings the chorus with them and dance suggestively. And Derek dances more provocatively as well. _Nnnff_...

 _"Ohhhh"_ Jackson sings.

 _"Where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?"_   Derek yells.

 _Hopefully in your fucking bed._  

_"Ohhhh"_

_"Out the back door, Goddamn, But I love her anyway."_  Derek finishes.

All that was missing was a freaking mic drop.

The crowd screams.

The others run up to him in a victory hug. Derek waves and runs off stage.

Stiles turns ordering two screwdrivers. Screw beer. Stiles needs something _stronger_ after that performance. Something like Derek’s muscles… all over his body.

When Derek finally makes it to him Stiles has two drinks in his hands.

"That was-" Stiles starts to say but Derek cuts him off by throwing his arms around him.

Stiles sputters, drinks sloshing. What was he about to say?

"Thank you." Is all Derek says.

For the first time in 3 years, Stiles mind is a giant blank. And that’s okay. More than okay. It’s _perfect_.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooozz... if you were hoping this story would be some fluffy angsty pining thing... welcome to the club. Seriously just took on a life of it's own.  
> if you wanna stalk me, I'm on tumblr.  
> littleredsterek.tumblr.com  
> BYEEEE!!! :D


	3. The lies we weave are oh so intricate.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the press tour before the tour begin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.  
> Thank you for sticking with me through this!

After the party in Scott’s loft they bond for hours. They remain awake after the last few stragglers from the party go home and then continue drinking, curled up on the floor in the middle of the room. At some point Scott had brought out pillows and blankets and it’s basically become one big puppy pile.

Derek leans his back against the stage so he doesn't have to hold himself up. Erica is resting in the V of Boyd’s legs, across from Derek. Stiles and Lydia are to Derek’s right, hands intertwined, Stiles’ head on her shoulder, and hers on his head nuzzling. Isaac and Scott are pressed close to Derek’s left, not necessarily cuddling, but close enough to nudge each other and bicker like children. Jackson is stretched out between Lydia and Boyd like he’s some hot piece of shit. Which in Jackson’s mind, he was.

They’re comfortable. Drunk enough to pass out, but happy enough to try to keep the mood up.

Lydia and Isaac ask a lot of questions about how they became a band. Jackson tells them the same story Derek had told Stiles the night before. It wasn’t anything exciting.

Derek then asks them the same question and Scott answers when Stiles pointedly looks elsewhere. When Stiles tried to answer he sputtered, apparently too drunk to say anything.

ooo

When Derek asked how the band got together, Stiles didn't know how to answer and he kinda spit all over Lydia trying to figure out an explanation.

Stiles had originally come out to spend spring break with an ex-boyfriend. Stiles never told Derek that. He didn’t want Derek to get jealous or think poorly of him. Stiles, being the drunken idiot he is, realizes now that Derek doesn't care about that because they aren’t together anymore. As far as Derek knows, they never dated. An ex isn’t a secret he has to keep anymore (with the exception of Derek). Stiles digs his head in deeper on Lydia’s shoulder for comfort.

Scott tells the other band the basics, while Stiles collects his thoughts. Scott gives them the PR response. _They all met sporadically. Scott was from California and he met Isaac at a local record store and they hit it off. Scott and Stiles met when Stiles was visiting a boyfriend who lived in town. They hit it off and Lydia had been Stiles’ best friend since forever and they were a package deal._

Boyd didn’t let the question drop at how, he asked deeper questions about why, and what their motivations to make music were.

That was when Stiles jumped in. That he could answer. That was actually one of his favorite questions anyone could ever ask him. "At first we were all fame hungry, there is no denying that, but after we got a taste for the fame it quickly changed into something else. It turned into an outlet for our emotions, like most artists, then it became less about us and more about our audience. To, hopefully, relate to others who didn’t have a loud enough voice." Stiles says thoughtfully scratching his chin looking down, planning his words carefully, this was before Derek was involved. This is all true. Nothing he has to be careful about yet. "And it-we did. Our struggles related to a lot of people's struggles. We quickly realized we weren't all that special... we’re just like everyone else, ya know? But we can be just a little bit louder." Stiles pinches the air.

Stiles still remembers the first hundred fans who came up to him to tell him the band had saved their lives. Stiles, and Isaac especially, had found their calling.

"Yeahhh!" Scott fist pumps.

Lydia follows with a _‘woo_!’

Stiles shakes Lydia a bit from the side. Now, was where he had to choose words carefully. "We got too wrapped up in it though, and didn’t pay attention to contracts and relationships-" Stiles clears his throat. He got too wrapped up in Derek. "We got really distracted. And now the label- _Kate_ owns us. We will be lucky if we ever get out alive."

Kate will make him suffer for stealing her trophy boyfriend and soon to be husband, for as long as she can.

"That’s why you didn’t want us to sign the contract..." Erica says somberly.

 _How is that so hard to understand?_ Stiles thinks, he had at least made that part clear, but whatever.

Stiles nods flashing an eye to Derek. "Yea.. uhmm we still have musical rights. We can write our own music and shit. We can perform wherever, unscheduled for free, we have most freedoms. But we don’t - anything scheduled by the label we have to do. Anything." _Unfortunately_. Stiles looks down playing with Lydia’s fingers.

"Which is why a lot of our songs are basically a big fuck you to the man!" Lydia bites, nuzzling Stiles further.

His friends are the best. They never got mad at him for sleeping with management... err management _property_ and fucking up their lives. They just united. They are the best. He feels like the luckiest man alive. Aside from one obvious factor.

ooo

Derek stares longer than he should. He just doesn’t understand why Stiles’ eyes have had that slight glaze of heartbreak all night. The others seem to be fine.

Occasionally, Stiles’ eyes land on Derek and Stiles tries to give a reassuring smile, but Derek isn’t having it. There is more to this story and Derek has every intention of hearing it out.

Derek is starting to see that Lydia and Stiles were kind of a unit. Constantly hanging all over each other, always looking to each other for courage, confirmation, answers. They are severely codependent.  

Derek feels a small pang of jealousy looking at them cuddled up together in their palette. If Stiles hadn’t already tackled him, and Lydia hadn’t told him that she knew Stiles was attracted to him, Derek would think they were a couple.

Stiles had told him about a guy named Danny... Derek decides not to think about that. Not with this much alcohol in his blood. Nope.

The night grew longer and they got to where they were mumbling and Derek isn't sure at what point he passed out. The next morning though the puppy pile was in full swing.

Derek woke up to dead weight.  All over him. He couldn’t even lift his head to really survey where exactly everyone had ended up, and most importantly, who all was on him. There was a head shoved right up under his chin. Another head heavy on his stomach and legs woven with his from every angle. Derek’s mental image of looking like a pair of headphones when you pull them out of your jacket pocket almost made him smile. Almost.

Derek manages to twist his head to his right and see Isaac and Scott curled up together.

Scott completely sprawled out and Isaac’s head on Scott’s knee curled up in the fetal position.

Behind Isaac and closer to Derek, he sees bare feet with bright pink toes. Not Erica, that’s for sure, so Lydia's head must be on his stomach.

Jackson’s forehead is propped against her back, arm loosely hanging over her. Which.. weird. But, ok.

That left Boyd , Erica, and Stiles unaccounted for. He manages to make out leather and boots at the edge of his vision toward his feet and that is when he realizes that Stiles is the one cuddled up underneath Derek’s chin.

Then he notices the soft hair tickling at his neck. His own hand is also wrapped around Stiles waist. It feels nice. It feels right.

Derek isn’t a cuddler. Well, he hasn’t been since he was a kid. Just the occasional pity cuddle from Erica when he seemed a little lonelier than usual.

Lydia has her arm around his waist and Stiles hand is scrunched loosely in his shirt over his chest. Derek is suddenly hyper sensitive and can feel everything. Including his very real urge to pee.

Derek breathes in deeply, trying to will natures calls away, hoping to enjoy the closeness just a little bit longer.

Stiles notices Derek’s breath. Stiles sluggishly stretches his hand across Derek's chest, and stretches his legs before curling them closer against Derek’s legs. Stiles’ fingertips graze over a nipple and that is very sensitive too, apparently.  

Derek huffs out a breath and reflexively grips tighter to Stiles hip bone. He isn’t sure if it’s to make Stiles stop, or beg him not to stop.

Stiles moans breathily, rotating his hip outward like he is trying to shift Derek's hand around front from where it rests on Stiles back. Stiles hand slides back over Derek’s nipple. He doesn't seem too awake, almost like he’s doing this all on instinct, his head nuzzling further under Derek’s chin.

Derek holds his hand firmly in place refusing to move it and take advantage of Stiles sleepy state.

Stiles twists forward slowly, then back again, palm hot on Derek’s nipple. Stiles is clearly seeking friction. Stiles breath is ghosting over Derek’s chest and Derek is doing everything he can to will away the tingling sensation in his abdomen. Although, that could still be nature's call, he isn’t sure. He just knows he’s seconds away from getting a hard on, or pissing himself. Both equally terrifying.  

Stiles is still lazily twisting and rubbing and Derek tries to hold him still with his hand on Stiles’ hip. All that does is make Stiles moan and pull his body flush with Derek’s side.

Derek can feel exactly where Stiles sleep ridden mind is at. It is pressed firmly against his thigh.

Derek tries to shift his leg away to give Stiles some space, still trying not to let Stiles do something he will regret. Especially, in a room full of his friends and co-workers. That would be a bad idea.

Stiles chases after his leg hooking a leg of his own over Derek's, effectively holding Derek in place.

Stiles is very slowly and lazily rubbing against Derek's leg. His hand skirting down to Derek's ribs, and fuck Derek is done for. His ribs, for some ungodly reason, is his spot. Like game over, all bets are off, fuck me now, spot.

Derek lets out a breathy moan from not only his spot being stroked lightly, but the length grinding against him, just a little too far away from where Derek would prefer. Derek’s nipple is still on fire from where Stiles’ warm palm had been only moments ago, and Stiles hot breath is soaking into Derek’s shirt over his heart. Derek is losing his restraint. Slowly, but surely.

Stiles apparently feels him moan and drags his head up to mouth at Derek’s throat.

Derek swears his eyes roll into the back of his head. He knows he should wake Stiles up. Should remove himself entirely and just go pee like he needs to. He just can't move. He is at the mercy of Stiles legs, arms, and fucking mouth. It is all hot, wet, warmth one second, then a cool breeze the next.

Stiles playfully nips at hair on Derek’s neck, pulling with his teeth, and Derek hisses through his teeth.

Derek’s hand shifts down from Stiles hip, gripping closer to his groin, making Stiles moan against his neck and rub a little bit harder against Derek’s leg.

Stiles’ hand still alternating between nipple and ribs.

Derek is losing himself in a cloud of pleasure and almost doesn’t care that the room is full.

Then Stiles freezes and Derek can see out of the corner of his eye that Lydia had reached up and grabbed Stiles wrist. Her head still lying against Derek’s stomach, not actually looking at either of them.

Stiles slowly shifts his head back to Derek's chest no longer at his neck and has stopped his thrusts all together. His breathing is slower. More drawn out like he is trying to calm himself down.

Derek is frozen.

Derek knows he should do something, let Stiles know it was ok. Derek had gotten into it. He didn’t mind the cuddling, enjoyed that as well. That Stiles did nothing wrong. He was okay and he’d actually really like to pick up where they left off away from the group. Derek can’t make himself move though.

Stiles lays there for another five minutes and then slowly sits up like he’s trying not to disturb anyone and rubs his face.

Derek hears him sniffle.

No. Derek can’t let him think what he just did was a bad thing. It really was ok. Derek reaches out an arm, grabbing Stiles’ wrist, and Stiles looks at him blotchy faced, then quickly retreats to the bathroom.

Lydia starts to get up patting Derek's stomach, indicating she knew a lot more than Derek had thought.

Derek stops her and she looks at him with soft sad eyes. "Let me go." He says in a whisper.

She nods and lets him up.

He ignores Erica and Boyd’s protests when he untangles his legs from theirs.

Stiles wasn’t in the bathroom anymore so Derek follows the cold hallway to a door left ajar. When he pushes it open Stiles is laying with his face in a pillow. Derek knocks softly before stepping in.

"I know, Lydia. Please, go away. I don’t want to talk about it." Stiles mumbled into the pillow.

Derek clears his throat.  

"Shit!" Stiles spits into the pillow, his body tense.

Derek takes a few steps forward. "It’s ok. What happened." Derek says softly, wanting to reassure Stiles anyway that he can.

Face still smashed in the pillow, Stiles retorts throwing his arms about. "Yea, sure! I took advantage of you when you were unconscious! Even after I told you I would keep my hands to myself. God, I fucking molested you!" He shouts into the pillow pulling at his hair.

"No you didn’t."

"Yes. I. Did. You jackass."  

"Sit up." Derek says stiffly but quietly. So it comes out less like an order and more like a plea.

Stiles sits up avoiding Derek’s eyes. "Why are you being so nice to me? That is twice now I have sexually assaulted you."

Derek huffs out a breath and squats down in front of Stiles looking up at him. "It’s not assault. I don’t know how to explain it because yea, from an outside point of view that’s what it was."

Stiles huffs an unamused laugh.

"But hey..."

Stiles still refuses to look him in the eye so Derek turns his chin toward him.

"I don’t feel assaulted. I actually feel cheated."

Stiles brows scrunch together as he squints at him, and his lips gape like he is trying to form words.

"That’s twice now you have started something and didn’t let me finish it."

Derek knows this is forward, but he did want to finish, but he mostly just wants the look of hurt and disgust on Stiles face to go away. And apparently Derek said the right thing because it was replaced by wonder and hunger. Then confliction.

Stiles almost pouts. "You have only known me two days. And I don’t want to sound cheesy but I don’t want this to be about-" Stiles breaks off looking away.

"No, hey. It’s not like that. I like you. I don’t know how or why but I feel like I have known you a really long time. But I understand. We can take things slow. Or not at all. It’s your choice." Derek looks at the floor for support.

Stiles is staring at him wide eyed.

"I’m just letting you know where I stand. And most of all.. not to feel guilty about anything that has happened. I enjoyed every second of it. Okay?" Derek isn’t sure what he expects. He’s putting a lot on the line. He’s basically asking Stiles if he wanted to try and see where this goes after only 2 days of knowing each other. But the attraction is real. For both of them. Derek expects Stiles to laugh, push him away, tell him not to be an idiot. Anything but what he actually does.

Stiles pulls him in by the collar of Derek’s shirt and mashes their faces together.

Derek automatically complies running his hands up Stiles sides making Stiles’ mouth part with a gasp. Derek drives his tongue into his mouth without hesitation. He just needs more.

Stiles has one hand squeezing his neck and the other wound up in his hair.

Derek tentatively pushes forward and Stiles immediately pulls Derek up and over him. They settle, never breaking their string of desperate kisses, with Derek’s thigh between Stiles and one of Stiles’ between his.

Their kisses have no real purpose. Or at least not one in particular. They go from needy, to chaste, to dirty, to even adoration.  

Derek can’t keep up but he is lost and he never wants to be found. It is almost like everything is finally clear and has purpose in his scrambled brain.

They are rutting against each other, moans and pants filling the room. There are too many clothes and Derek reaches down to undo Stiles button when Stiles quickly flips them over resting between Derek’s thighs.

"No. I am not having sex in Scott’s bed where he probably sexes up Allison."

Derek grinds down on Stiles in argument.

"No. Get up. Get ready. Today we start getting ready for tour." Stiles gives him a peck on the nose then pops up and trots away from the bed.

Derek sits up on his elbows in disbelief.

Stiles turns at the door leaving Derek with a wink.

"Make that 3 times." Derek calls to his retreating figure.

Stiles answers by giggling then clapping to wake the others up.

* * *

 

Stiles has to get out of there before he says something stupid. When he will be able to trust his mouth, he has no idea.

When he woke up that morning and could smell Derek beneath him, feel his warmth, he was back in his trailer after a long night. He was moving on instinct. Knowing how Derek likes it, knowing how to listen for cues. Stiles was in a blissful state dragging out the foreplay before they got down and dirty. Like they always had. It wasn't until Lydia had grabbed his wrist that he felt like a predator. That he realized this wasn't his Derek.

When Derek grabbed him trying to reassure him Stiles ran, because a) thats what he is good at and b) he almost said 'I forgot you forgot me for a second. Im sorry' and nope. Bad idea.

He expected Lydia to follow him, not Derek, and thank god he didn't say anything more definitive when he thought It was Lydia in the doorway, that would have gone nowhere good way too fast.

He knows Derek wants the D. Obviously. So does he, but he doesn't know how to do this. How to not take advantage. How to not manipulate Derek into falling for him all over again. How to not tell Derek when that is all he wants to do. They always told each other everything, but how do you tell someone this, and then expect them to ever be able to fall in love with you knowing you know them more than they know you. That being said how does Stiles let him fall in love with him all over again and never tell him the truth? Stiles head hurts.

But there Derek was, kneeling in front of him begging. Stiles wouldn't be Stiles of he didn't turn that into a heated session of dirty kisses and dry humping. Thankfully he stopped. Mostly because, gross, Scott’s bed. They did have a lot to do though so he didn't feel too bad. When Derek called out 3 times Stiles had left him hanging he felt a game coming on. Whoops. He giggled trying not to stress anymore and went to wake the others up.

* * *

After that they were slammed with meeting after meeting. Fitting after fitting. Interview after interview. Hotel room after hotel room. Basically there was a lot going into getting ready for this tour.

It’s been three months and Derek has never seen his band mates so undeniably happy, especially Jackson.

Derek can't remember all of the details but he remembers the basics. He’s not sure how or when they make it to bed each night, but he knows one thing without a doubt.  

Stiles made all of this happen. He could just let them open and travel with them, end of story. Instead he has Allison book them interviews. He pays for lavish hotel rooms and keeps them really well fed. He promotes them every chance he gets on twitter, in interviews, and even during the Shelter Games. All of them have gotten into the promoting part of everything really, Isaac, Scott, and Lydia are all making things happen for them.

Derek cannot remember the last time he stepped out of a hotel and didn't have at least 5 girls ambushing him. Fame was catching.

Stiles made this happen and Derek is very much aware of that. He's also very aware of the fact Stiles... seems off.

As much as Stiles has helped them out these past few months, he has also pissed Derek right the fuck off. Stiles hardly talks to him unless it has to do with work, he avoids being alone with him like it’s the plague, and when Derek brings up the night of the party, Stiles changes the subject.

But then sometimes, about 20% of the time, Stiles reacts differently. He hangs all over Derek, he makes out with him and gets right to the edge and then stops.

Derek stopped counting how many times Stiles left him hanging a few months ago. They are probably in the mid 30's now. The sexual frustration is real. Derek knows most of these moments are when they are under the influence but still. What the hell is the problem?

* * *

 

The eight of them are lined up in a row of stools and Derek kinda feels like he’s on some kind of game show. He can’t remember the blondes name and he's distracted for a second by the live audience. It still blows his mind that this is their life now.

"-erek?"

"Hmm?" He snaps his head to the blonde. How long has she been trying to get his attention?  

"Welcome back!" Lydia smirks at him.

He blushes. "Sorry. Still getting used to the whole thing." He says pointing to.. well everything! "I’m sorry what were you saying?"

The blonde giggles, obviously checking him out. "When can we expect another music video?"

They did one, but it was basically just clips of them singing Miss Jackson live and fans dancing. It wasn’t anything impressive. Or high budget. Fallout is paying for everything and Derek is grateful, but he does not want to take advantage.

"We are working on an idea for one right now... but I don’t really care for where it's going. So we are still brainstorming." Derek says truthfully.

"Why don’t you like where it is going?" The lady asks, Kelly, he finally remembers.

Stiles and Erica start laughing.

Erica answers before Derek can. "He’s not comfortable with how much skin we are asking for."

Stiles winks at him and Derek rolls his eyes in response.

"Oh, really now?" She asks raising a seductive eyebrow. "How much skin?"

Boyd clears his throat. "Alright now, let’s keep it PG, Kelly. Children could be watching."

"That much, huh?" She giggles.

The rest of the group aside from Derek smirk and nod, telling the audience all they need to know.

Stiles clears his throat averting his eyes from Derek looking anywhere else. "I-we keep telling him he has nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s nice skin." Stiles starts cackling when Derek growls at him three stools down.

Derek can’t really put any heat behind his growl when Stiles is laughing the way he is. Head thrown back mouth wide, then ducking and hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.

_Adorable fucking idiot._

Kelly starts giggling too and Derek picks up his microphone. "And I keep telling you guys that I am not doing this just to draw more publicity. That’s copping out. The music should speak for itself."

"Oh, come on, Derek. You just have stage fright. It’s a great idea considering the song." Erica smirks repeating herself for the hundredth time. "Would actually improve the vision of the song."

"Erica, not again. We aren’t arguing about this anymore." Derek says carefully.

They have all been arguing about this stupid music video for over a week.

"What’s the song about?" Kelly asks not trying to change the subject.

Jackson answers. "It’s a song about a boy who likes a girl but that girl likes another girl." He pauses for the reaction he was hoping for then continues. "Basically it says, Girls love girls _and_ boys. And if you change your mind you know where to find me." Jackson recites a line from the chorus.

Kelly nods encouraging him to continue.

"The way we see it, aside from Derek, if he strips down for the song it shows how the song is stripped down. It’s vulnerable and open. The subject for that matter is... _controversial_ to say the least, so we feel that him being stripped down would be perfect."

Kelly ‘hmms’ when Jackson doesn’t say anything else. "With you guys just now making it into the public’s eye are you sure you want to touch on that this early?"

Derek looks up and Stiles is looking at his fingers trying not to show how that comment effected him.

Stiles’ bisexual but all anyone acknowledges is whether or not he has a girlfriend, and he doesn’t mind that, usually. But here Kelly sits right next to him and says this.

The rest of the group are shocked into silence.  

Derek refuses to tolerate that. "Are we sure? Yes. 100%. There’s a reason this topic is a touchy topic, and that needs to be broke down. Love is love.  No matter the gender and none of us here have a problem with it. As long as we love ourselves and each other we couldn’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. _Anyone_." Derek looks at her pointedly and she bristles a little.

"Being in the public eye you have to be aware that your actions have a lot more impact and cause a lot of gossip. I’m just making sure you are ready for what is coming, _Derek_." She singles him out with a fake smile and evil eyes.

She reminds him a little too much of Kate.

"I’m sure Stiles is already well aware of that." Kelly snips.

Stiles gives her a side look trying to keep his face blank.

Derek wants to punch her, or at least kick her chair and knock her down like a toddler.

Before Derek can send another snide remark her way Boyd cuts in. When Boyd clears his throat and takes a deep breath Derek knows this is going to be good, so he leans back folding his arms grinning. Get her, Boyd.

"All the more reason for us to do the song. I might even write another one, more to the point." Boyd says thoughtfully. "Too many people try to sweep equal rights under the rug and just avoid it... like we do with politics. Because it starts arguments. More people need to address it. More people need to stand up for what they believe. And more people should be willing to stand up against a bully." He looks at her accusingly.

"A bully?" She laughs.

"Yes.” Boyd states matter of factly, then squints his eyes at her. “Careful Kelly, you may start sounding like you are on the wrong side of this argument, of this movement. And what is it you said?"

"Being in the public eye." Stiles clears his throat. "Your actions have a lot more impact." He stares her down.

She just challenged the wrong group and she looks like she’s realized her mistake, looking out to the audience trying to figure out a way to derail this conversation.

"You are absolutely right." She forces a laugh. "We have to take a short break and when we come back we will talk about who this gorgeous group's celebrity crushes are!"

The cameraman signals the break and she flips on Derek. "I have no idea who you think you are but you cannot attack the person who is interviewing you."

"When it’s an attack you will know it." Lydia smirks checking her nails.

Scott hasn’t said anything until now, looking her dead in the eyes, "We are only here because our label made us. Don't think we forgot how you reacted when you found out Stiles was gay."

Bisexual, but whatever, the look on her face is _priceless_.

Isaac leans forward. "We remember every word. We all know exactly where you stand on this issue. You have no friends here."

"You are really going to hold that comment against me?" She says sarcastically.

"No." Lydia says. "We hold ' _Some people just don’t want to go to heaven_.' Against you. And everything else you have said. Like Scott said, we don’t want to be here. Our label made us. As far as we care you are a disgrace who shouldn’t be in the public eye spreading your hatred."

Kelly sputters.

Derek cuts in. "You owe not only Stiles an apology-"

"Or a million!" Scott lunges forward.

"-but an apology to the whole LGBT community. We are done talking about this. Let’s just get this over with." Derek finishes.

"Wait." Stiles finally says. "Kelly."

She looks at him guilt ridden.

"I forgive you." Stiles takes a deep breath. "It’s nothing new. I’m used to it. And I think we-they have said enough to maybe make you rethink your position?" Stiles raises an eyebrow at her.

She nods.

"That, Kelly is why they are doing the song."

She wipes at her eyes and their group all nod at each other, exchanging smiles, and squeezes to each other’s shoulder, arms, or legs.

When the cameras start rolling again Kelly starts up like nothing happened. "So we are going to go down the line and talk about our celebrity crushes!" She exclaims like she is getting the biggest scoop. “ We will start with you, Boyd.”

“Erica Reyes.” He says simply.

Before anyone else can react Erica scoffs. “That’s disgusting. You’re cheating. Pick someone else, or you’re sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, man, you better listen!” Stiles laughs. “If she is referring to the trailer’s couch you are in for a very restless night.”

Boyd rolls his eyes, and Erica nodds.

“Fine.” Boyd pauses, rolling his eyes again. “Kelsie Leverich.”

The rest look at him a little dumbfounded not knowing who that is. Kelly asks. “I’m afraid I am not familiar with her, is she a writer?”

“Yes.” Boyd nods, “I met her a year and a half ago when she was touring with her book and I did an article on her for the paper I work for.”

“Ohhh...” Kelly smiles like it’s taboo. “Erica, you might have some competition here.”

“Please.” Erica crosses her arms accentuating her cleavage subtly.

“No. Erica knows how I feel.” Boyd reassures.

“Well that’s good.” Kelly moves on deflated. “So you still write for the paper even though you are traveling for the tour?” She leans forward propping herself on her knee with her elbow.

“Yes, the paper is actually pushing for me to write a first hand series of articles from my point of view on tour.” Boyd nods thinking about it again. “Which could be interesting, but I haven’t decided yet. I’d rather write like I always have.”

“And what do you normally write about?” Kelly asks.

Boyd smiles. “Pick up one of our papers and you will see.”

“I’ll definitely do that.” Kelly shifts her focus, no longer interested “Jackson, who is your celebrity crush?”

“Easy.” Jackson flashes his signature smirk, “Kate Upton. Hands down.” He smacks his knees with finality.

Everyone laughs and cat calls.

Derek rolls his eyes. Jackson is so predictable it is sickening.

Kelly moves on. “Erica?”

“Eminem.” She purses her lips in a smile.

“Excuse me?” Boyd asks.

Derek laughs. Just like them to pick a fight on live television.

“Really now?” Kelly whispers.

The rest of the group just look at Erica completely confused.

“Oh yea. I’ll help him clean out his closet any day!”

Scott laughs. “You are officially my new favorite.”

Erica laughs. “Yea, I have been a big fan of his since I was probably eleven. You know when I wasn’t supposed to? But I would stay up late watching VH1 and MTV to catch music videos. He made me feel like a badass!”

Kelly laughs. “I’m sure he has that effect on a lot of people.”

Erica giggles then groans when she sees Boyd pointedly not looking at her. “Ugh. Fine. Boyd too. Obviously. We have only been dating on and off again for 6 years. You happy now?” She looks at him, lips pursed and curling down at the edges.

Boyd smiles accepting her apology.

Kelly jumps in, “Six years?”

They both nod to her and she moves on knowing they are going to run out of time. Everyone knows she is just humoring _Were! at the Disco_ the real scoop is in _Fallout Shelter_.

“Derek? What about you? I’m sure girls all over want to know your type.” She preens a little, smoothing out her skirt.

Derek sighs, he has been trying to figure this out. He has no idea. He doesn’t crush. Well unless that person is Stiles. But he can’t exactly say that now can he? “I don’t have one.”

“Ohh, come on.” Kelly drawls.

“Seriously! I don’t have any celebrity crushes.” He drops his hands in his lap.

“Ok, then non-celebrity?”

Derek thinks. He can’t say Stiles… and she isn’t going to let this go. Fuck it. answer by not answering. “Well I have been having these dreams ever so often, but I can never see the face so I have no idea who this person is, but whenever I dream about him…” He pauses feeling his heart swell. “I just. I have never felt so happy.” He leaves it at that. He kinda, maybe, just came out too and Kelly is evaluating him before she responds.

“Derek.” She grins. “Are you coming out on my show?”

Derek shrugs.

“Niice.”

She moves on to Scott and he answers ‘ _the President_ ’ and Kelly thinks he means the actual president, not the future president of _Argent Records_. Apparently, they have to keep Scott and Allison’s relationship on the down low since she is their manager.

While Kelly and Scott bicker, Derek catches a glimpse of Stiles in the monitor and Stiles is staring at him. Lydia is rubbing his back and Stiles looks really emotional.

Derek feels like shit. He just came out on the show where the host literally tore Stiles to shreds for coming out. Derek looks over at him and gives him an apologetic smile but Stiles turns away before he can see it.

ooo

Stiles has to force his body not to react. There is no way Derek is getting his memories back and dreaming about him. No fucking way. Because this is Stiles’ life, and shit doesn’t work out that way. But, oh my God, does he hope it is true. It would make his life so much easier. If Derek just remembered.

Stiles wouldn’t have to battle everyday with _Am I taking advantage of him?’ What if he doesn’t like me anymore? What if he can’t love me? What if he finds out and hates me for not telling him? What if I tell him and he gets so confused we can never be together, because Derek doesn’t know if he really loves me or not?’_

It would just be a lot easier if Derek could remember.

Stiles starts to wonder what memories he might dream about, if it is in fact their memories, until Derek turns and catches him staring. Stiles has to flip his head away and force his face to go stone cold. He can’t give anything away. Way too many eyes on them right now.

Scott is wrapping up his answer while Stiles is still fighting with himself and Isaac is halfway through his. Stiles misses it but it sounds like he picked a sweet girl, which is fitting. Isaac needs stable, sweet things in his life.

Kelly address Lydia and Lydia clears her throat. “Sean Connery.” Before Kelly can say something about him being so old Lydia continues. Lydia always runs the interview when you are speaking directly to her. “He’s a little older than me, yes, but he is a perfect gentleman. I have seen almost every one of his movies.”

Scott, Isaac, and Stiles all nod vigorously, because yes, she has, and she has made them all sit through a handful of them with her.

“More men should be like him.”

Kelly cackles. “What’s the opposite of a cougar?”

They all laugh then she turns to Stiles. “You know the drill.”

Stiles scratches his head, chancing a glance at Derek who is focused on the mic in his lap. “Derek Hale.”

Everyone goes silent, and Derek freezes before looking up, panicked.

Stiles winks at him. “That’s right big guy, you are already falling for me and you know it.”

Derek blushes and looks away. More cat calls follow.

“Well this has been one of the most exciting and revealing interviews I have had in a long time.” Kelly breathes, grinning knowingly between Derek and Stiles. “But I’m afraid it‘s time for _Fallout Shelter_ to perform and then that will be all the time we have for today, but believe me I wish we could talk more about this blossoming relationship between you two.” She smirks. “Now we are going to take a break and when we come back, _Fallout Shelter_ will be performing their new single,   _[My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQ0lE7e3yfk) _. 

* * *

 

Stiles avoids Derek like the plague, afraid he will say something about how he really hopes he is the faceless man in Derek’s dreams. That Derek might be getting his memory back because they had been in love and Stiles would do anything to have that back. Stiles doesn’t trust his mouth. Not one bit. So he runs to the stage to get set up during their four minute break.

As they rush around setting up, Stiles starts to get butterflies. The four of them have planned this performance out more than any other guest performance they have done in the past.

This song is a giant ' _Fuck You_ ' to Kate.

They brought more lights than necessary. They brought more amps than necessary. They planned their outfits even. Danny orchestrated a Guerrilla Music Video that would be posted publicly all over the web the second they started performing.

Surely, as soon as Kate caught wind of it, she would put a team together for removing every video that makes itself out there.

Stiles knows his fans though, and they would download the video and continue to post it, Kate’s efforts would be fruitless, especially with Danny-the-evil-mastermind-of-the-web on their side.

Whether or not it was shown on tv didn’t matter.

Kate would see it.

They chose to do it on _this_ show because of obvious reasons. None of them are rude enough to cause trouble where it's not deserved, but they had a history with Kelly, Stiles specifically. He almost wishes Were! would sing _Girls/Girls/Boys_ , but he pushes that urge down, this is about Kate. Fuck, Kate. Fuck, Kelly, too, but fuck Kate more.

Stiles looks around and Scott is grinning like an idiot setting up his drums, making sure his stool is in the right spot for optimum drumming. Stiles laughs, he loves Scott.

Isaac is practically bouncing he’s so excited he can’t stand it and gives Stiles a thumbs up when he notices Stiles looking at him, Stiles returns the gesture in fervor.

Lydia is fixing her hair and makeup in a compact practicing her fierce looks, and darkening her eyeliner and lipstick for effect.

Once Stiles knows everyone is ready, he claps his hands, rubbing them together and they all follow him backstage. They only have a minute left so they didn't have time for their full pre-show ritual so Scott and Lydia rock, paper, scissor for it.

Lydia wins. "Okay, I get Stiles but you and Isaac can do what you want." She grins.

She turns to him putting her hands out and he smiles doing the same. Their thing is to play _'Slide'_ the game is over when someone messes up or time is called.

They rub their hands together getting ready and Scott and Isaac are already in the middle of their game of _Hacky Sack_.

Finally, they slide their hands together to get started. Then they lock eyes. Stiles is feeling particularly aggressive so he hopes that will give him an edge and he will win. The game quickly escalates, already up to 17.

Lydia looks more determined than usual, Stiles usually loses at this point or at least stumbles.

The hacky sack game is over and both Scott and Isaac are staring on in awe, waiting for one of them to slip up, remaining very silent.

Scott silently roots for Stiles.

Stiles actually thinks he might win when 30 seconds is called and he and Lydia say, "Draw" at the same time and lower their hands. They fall into each other in a big hug.

All of them then make their way up stage, Stiles hanging back for an entrance.

Stiles hears Kelly announce the song and all the lights go out. The track starts playing and Stiles shakes out his hands as he watches the screen glow above the stage with images of them playing in a garage smiling with glee. Stiles misses those days when they were just happy to play together. So much has changed since then. _So much_.

Then Scott, Lydia, and Isaac come in. _Oh_ , _whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa._

Then Isaac comes in with a quick cord. Images continue to flash of their young early beginning.

Stiles heart is pounding in his ears.

The lights go out but the music continues. Stiles makes it center stage and begins. " _Be careful making wishes in the dark, dark."_

The lights flash on for a second revealing him center stage, then going dark again.

_"Can't be sure when they've hit their mark."_

The lights flash red with the beat. Still darkness.

_"And besides in the mean, mean time, I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart."_

The video shows them tearing up a document in front of a faceless blond.

_"I'm in the de-details with the devil."_

The stage is lowly lit now with an eerie red glow and smoke is billowing around their feet still as death.

_"So now the world can never get me on my level."_

The screen shows them getting on a plane leaving loved ones.

_"I just gotta get you off the cage, I'm a young lover's rage, Gonna need a spark to ignite."_

The screen shows Stiles pulling at his hair, Lydia chewing her nails, Isaac curled up looking out the window of the plane, and Scott pacing talking on the phone mouthing ' _I miss you_ ' and _'soon'_.

_"My songs know what you did in the dark..."_

The stage lights pulse like a heartbeat and then everything goes bright yellow with red lasers flickering sporadically. There is a blue light glowing underneath the fog.

The stage is on fire.

Scott pounds at the drums and then they all start singing.

 _"So light 'em up, up, up. Light 'em up, up, up. Light 'em up, up, up. I'm on fire!"_ Stiles pulls at his shirt like its burning his skin and more images of pain run across the screen. He puts his arms out like wings.

Stiles starts up again adding a little bit of energy to his performance, but not looking to his bandmates like he normally would, this song, this performance is not about _fun_.

More images of them working in a studio now looking ragged, and stressed, flash across the screen arguing with a suited professional.

_"All the writers keep writing what they write."_

The lights flash like before.

_"Somewhere another pretty vein just dies."_

Crying loved ones now.

_"I've got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see, that you’re the antidote to everything except for me."_

The faceless blonde is sitting behind a desk cackling into a phone. Then it flashes to other artists sitting around lifeless.

_"A constellation of tears on your lashes. Burn everything you love, then burn the ashes."_

Bieber snaps at paparazzi.

_"In the end everything collides. My childhood spat back out the monster that you see."_

Earlier days for them and other artists signed by Argent records fly by in a fury of when they were young and happy.

When they were making the music video they reached out to them and the other artists jumped on the opportunity to be involved.

_"My songs know what you did in the dark."_

The low blue lights pulse again and when Scott pounds rapidly at the drums Stiles spins swirling the fog around his feet up dramatically.

_"So light 'em up, up, up."_

Now the screen shows the band, aggressively, tearing up an office, flipping desks, destroying documents, ripping posters off the wall, and the entire room of employees freaks out.

 _"Light 'em up, up, up. Light 'em up, up, up. I'm on fire!"_ They all look demented in the video, and on stage.

They sing the chorus again and the stage is blazing- _thank you Danny_ \-  and Stiles remains glued to his mike stand keeping his eyes forward. This song is not for entertainment this song is a statement- even if this is the most fun he has had on stage in a while.

They repeat the course again while the screen shows them fighting with the faceless blonde and destroying her office around her. They make a pile in the middle of the room of their posters, and merchandise.

_"My songs know what you did in the dark!"_

The instruments go silent and they all slowly start raising their arms flipping off the cameras, evil grins spreading across their faces.

_"My songs know what you did in the dark!"_

Scott beats rapidly at his drums and the four of them light a match at the same time, then drop them.

_"So light 'em up, up, up."_

A ring of fire spreads around each of them on stage.

They are also setting fire to the office in the video now.  

They sing the chorus now, no lights shining on stage only the lights from the fire itself.

People are torn between horror and awe.

Stiles isn’t stupid. When they set up, they had put down fireproof tarps that already had the ring set for ignition. They had planned this out to the T, and if for any reason something went wrong it’s not like they don’t have the money to pay for damages. They may be in a shittty contract, but that contract has made them a lot of money.

As they sing the chorus again the video shows them walking out of the building that is slowly going up in flames.

Stiles can see someone freaking out backstage and he continues to sing raising his middle finger to the unknown official backstage.

The song ends as planned and then they cut for commercial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't really a set plan for this story. I have the plot, of course, but all of the little events in between are just coming to me with FOB and Panic!'s discography's. haha. Anything you wanna see, just let me know. Maybe I can squeeze it in somewhere. :)
> 
> This story is purely to satisfy my own imagination. :D I hope you all enjoy it though! 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	4. FLASHBACK: I could be an accident but I'm still trying.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the winter of 2010 and all Stiles wants is to get into his managers boyfriend's pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throwback to 2010! What, what?  
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

**October 14, 2010.**

“Scott, you should be at the party, you know you want to go.” Stiles says over his guitar from where he’s sitting at the end of his hotel bed.

They just wrapped up a show in some city Stiles couldn’t identify if he was put on the spot. Stiles, Scott, and Derek skipped out on party after the show, to get some rest in the hotel before they load onto the bus at 4 in the morning to head to the next arena.

Scott stretches out more, drumming his sticks leisurely. “Nah, man. You’re not the only one who needs sleep.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at his best friend. He knows why Scott is _really_ skipping the party. Scott is just being a good friend because he knows Stiles has been crushing on their managers boyfriend for months now. Scott’s just sticking around for moral support, and to make sure Stiles doesn’t do something stupid and get his own feelings hurt.

Scott isn’t worried about Stiles hooking up with Kate’s boyfriend and bringing about her wrath. No. He’s worried that Derek won’t reciprocate and Stiles will end up hurt.

Stiles knows this.

Stiles keeps his eyes on his fingers that are picking at his guitar strings, pointedly not looking at Derek who is sitting in the lone chair beside the bed, sipping at a beer.

“Where’s Kate?” Stiles asks as casually as possible. It’s like he has to verbally acknowledge their relationship to keep himself on track with reality.

Derek doesn’t answer immediately. “Not sure. She said something about a meeting.”

Scott chimes in. “Nothing but meeting with that woman.”

“Yea.” Derek says quietly.

Derek has been spending more and more time with the band, because he stays on the road with them, so that he can be with Kate. Only, he doesn’t get to spend any time with her because she’s never around.

Stiles isn’t complaining one bit. “Well, you know you’re always welcome to hang with us.” Stiles glances up at Derek, shooting him a wink.

Derek fights a grin, the corners of his mouth curling down, but his eyes betray him. “Thanks.”

Stiles goes back to playing his guitar, not sure what he’s playing, just trying to keep his hands busy so he doesn’t do something reckless, like pet Derek’s beautiful face.

Stiles phone chimes beside him.

**Scott: “Idk how to flirt but imma stare at you until you marry me.”**

**Stiles: Shut up. Be nice. You’re not helping.**

Scott has been sending Stiles things like this for a few weeks. Lydia, Isaac, and Scott are all convinced that Derek has a thing for Stiles too, but Stiles can’t let himself believe it. A) it would greatly damage the band, because Kate. And B) Derek is straight.

Stiles chances a glance up at Derek who holds eye contact for a few seconds before dropping his head and scratching his neck. Stiles smiles at how pitiful Derek looks.

**Scott: His mind wants the D. But his body is like, “But can we really take the D?”**

Stiles feels his entire body flush at the thought of Derek’s _body_ taking _his_ D. Stiles has to adjust his guitar to cover his very interested chub.

**Stiles: Go away.**

**Scott: He’s looking at your blush now. His eyebrows are doing that thing where they don’t know if they want to go up or down, and they are kind of just stuck crooked.**

Scott sends a picture before Stiles can respond with a threat.

Derek looks like he is trying to catalogue every layer within Stiles. Like he want’s to know what goes on inside him. His face is open, and soft, aside from his eyebrows of course.

Stiles wills his smile to go away. He can’t afford to believe any of this. For all they know, Derek is just lost in thought, thinking about Kate. Trying to figure out where she is, or when he is going to get her alone.

**Stiles: Stop talking.**

**Scott: Stiles, he wants you so bad.**

**Stiles: I am seriously beginning to question this friendship.**

**Scott: No you’re not.**

Stiles throws his phone on the bed to shoot daggers at Scott.

Scott just beams back at him, raising an eyebrow toward Derek who’s not paying attention to Scott, his eyes are trained on Stiles.

 

**October 21, 2010.**

Stiles runs off stage, high on the adrenaline, and Derek has his back to the stage. Stiles can’t stop himself from running right for him and jumping on his back.

Derek has gotten to the point where Stiles knows, without a doubt, that he will be waiting back stage after each show. Derek’s always there ready to cover Stiles in compliments, congratulations, comments, and high fives.

“To the bar!” Stiles shouts over Derek’s shoulder, pointing forward. “We must drink!”

Derek doesn’t try to dislodge Stiles from his body. He laughs and actually secures Stiles thighs around his waist with strong hands.

Stiles molds his face into what he hopes looks like the face of a friend just getting a piggyback ride from another friend. Not the face of a guy looking for any excuse to get his hands on his manager's boyfriend. More _specifically_ , an excuse to get his legs around him.

Kate is nowhere to be seen though. She must be back at the hotel, or handling press somewhere. Stiles doesn’t miss her one bit. Every minute she’s away is another minute he has Derek to himself.

The rest of the band join them and they all head out the back of the building, Stiles still on Derek’s back. They load into a car to head back to the hotel. Stiles is momentarily sad that the piggyback ride is over but Derek quickly slides in beside Stiles, pressing their sides together.

Stiles closes his eyes wishing he could feel Derek’s body heat all over his own. Just blanket himself in all that is Derek.

They drink in the hotel’s bar, all of them pretty sloshed after a few hours of drinking, laughing, and dancing.

Stiles really is trying not to shoot heart eyes at Derek everytime they make eye contact, but he knows he is failing miserably.

Isaac keeps shooting Stiles sad eyes, knowing that every shot Stiles takes is to try and numb the longing of how badly he wants Derek’s lips on his.

After a few shots more Stiles loses track of Derek and considers it for the best.

**Derek: Kate isn’t supposed to come back to the hotel tonight, wanna hang out?**

Stiles head pops up in surprise. They had exchanged numbers a few months back in case they ever needed to locate each other, or Kate, or whatever. Derek hadn’t ever needed to text him though. Stiles types out a reply.

**Stiles: Sure :) Now?**

**Derek: If you want.**

Stiles doesn’t waste any time.

He hops off his bar stool, tells the band he is going to crash, to wake him when the bus is leaving. They don’t question him and wave him off as they continue their conversation about a new music video they want to do.

Stiles doesn’t look for Derek, not wanting to draw attention, and heads for the elevator. He bites his nails with nerves, he knows better than to believe anything would happen tonight, but God does he wish something would.

He digs for his key card in his pocket as he walks to his room. When he looks up he finds Derek sitting on the floor in front of Stiles room, head in his hand. Stiles knows enough by this point to know something is wrong.

“Hey buddy, you alright?’ Stiles squats down on front of Derek, lightly running a hand through Derek’s hair. Stiles tells himself this is okay, this is what friends do.

Derek presses into Stiles’ hand. “Yea. I mean. I don’t know. I will be.”

Stiles nods to himself. “What do you say we go inside and have a beer?”

Derek lifts his head, giving Stiles a small smile then pushes himself to his feet.

Stiles opens the door quickly and makes for the mini bar. He pops the cap on two bottles and hands one to Derek. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on.”

Derek takes a swig before finding a spot to sit.

Stiles sits down on the floor at the end of the bed, looking up at Derek in the chair a few feet in front of him.

“It’s just Kate.” Derek grunts.

Stiles doesn’t want to talk about Kate, but Derek clearly needs to. “What about her?”

Derek sighs, “I just don’t know what we are doing. I am following her all over the globe, and I only see her when she climbs into bed at the end of the night a couple days a week and then she leaves so early each morning that I wake up alone.”

Stiles takes a drink. “That’s just the job, man.” He ignores the thought of how if he and Derek were together, Derek would never wake up alone.

Derek’s frown deepens.

“Hey!” Stiles kicks Derek’s foot. “You still have us to hang out with.”

Derek cracks a smile. “I know.” He scratches his neck. “Kate doesn’t like that though.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles almost barks.

Derek meets his eyes before dropping them back to where he’s picking at his beer label. “She thinks I spend too much time with you guys. That I talk about you all too much when she and I are together.” He clears his throat. “She was texting me while we were drinking. Giving me a hard time. I told her if she wanted me to stop all she had to do was to make time for me- give me something else to talk about. It’s not like I’m not available. I’m following her all over, and the only people I know are you guys and her. So naturally, I am going to talk about you guys or her, and if she isn’t around I don’t have anything about her to talk about. She got mad and stopped texting me.”

“Then you text me.” Stiles concludes. He tries not to preen at that. That when Derek needed comfort and an open ear, he immediately went for Stiles.

“Then I text you.” Derek peaks up with a small smile.

 

**November 3, 2010**

“I’m not saying I _like_ you… I’m saying that I would _consider_ letting you have a bite of my pizza. So, pretty close.” Stiles laughs taking another bite of his pizza as Derek shakes his head from the foot of his bed.

Kate’s been MIA for almost a week and Derek has spent every night in Stiles hotel rooms after shows. They eat, drink, play music, and watch movies.

Derek doesn’t talk about Kate anymore and Stiles doesn’t ask.

When Stiles stands up to go to the bathroom he hands off the remainder of his pizza slice to Derek with a wink.

He comes back with a new case of beer. Stiles knows they drink a lot. A) it’s part of the life. B) it helps with the nerves around Derek. C) Derek visibly loosens up too. and D) performing and running around stage every night takes a lot out of you and can make you achey. Alcohol loosens the muscles too.

Stiles leans back against the headboard, eyes heavy, as he listens to Derek talk about his hometown and family. His family sounds very close knit and Stiles longs for something like that. All he has is his dad. He momentarily feels bad about the life he’s chosen, leaving his dad alone back in Beacon Hills. His dad encouraged him though, wanted him to see the world, do what he loves. Stiles makes a point to call him every week at least once.

Derek must catch on to Stiles mood, and reaches out for one of Stiles’ feet. He runs a thumb up the arch of Stiles foot.

“Fuck!” Stiles feels his entire body react to the touch. Impulses flying everywhere. His back arches off the bed and he feels a full flush spread across his skin.

Derek, the asshole, laughs.

“I swear to God.” Stiles chokes. “If you stop I might actually kill you.”

Derek shakes his head and adds his other hand to rub circles into the sole of his foot.

Stiles throws his arm over his face trying to cover his blush, and muffle the stream of sounds that should only be heard in porn.

Derek laughs but, thankfully, doesn’t stop.

“Shut up.” Stiles mumbles. “Your hands are talented, okay? And I had no idea how much I needed a foot rub. Jesus. I’m so sorry. Please don’t hold my mouth against me.” Stiles, amazingly, is able to contain the next sentence about how Derek was more than welcome to hold _his_ mouth against him though.

“Don’t apologize. It’s nice hearing appreciation every once in awhile.” Derek mumbles focussing on a particularly tight spot.

Stiles feels goosebumps spread across his skin. “Oh my God.” Stiles moans. If Derek wants appreciation, appreciation he shall get. Stiles tries not to think about how Derek is most likely referring to Kate, how she doesn’t appreciate him. Stiles wishes he could throw a stapler at her head. Derek should always be appreciated.

Derek drops his foot and Stiles almost cries, only to moan a new when Derek picks up his other one.

“You are seriously my favorite.” Stiles can feel each stroke of Derek’s thumb against his foot, in his dick. Stiles can feel it twitching in appreciation.

Derek catches the movement and quirks an eyebrow at Stiles.

Stiles shrugs, as though it’s not a big deal. “Don’t look at me like that. You had plenty of warning with how I vocally responded already. Plus, it’s your own fault. I will not feel guilty about how my body responds to pleasure.”

Derek ducks his head, and Stiles watches the blush work its way up his neck.

Finally, Derek lifts his head meeting Stiles’ eyes and all he responds with is “Good.”

 

**November 11, 2010**

After the show Stiles feels particularly brave.

Derek has taken to standing at the corner of the stage with the security detail. He says he likes watching Stiles and the band interact with the audience. That it’s not the same from back stage. That he likes the energy of being surrounded by screaming fans.

Stiles isn’t complaining. He loves looking down and seeing Derek smile up at him like he is the most impressive thing known to man. Like Derek could watch him all day. Derek is slowly becoming Stiles safety blanket.  

Still high on adrenalin and Derek having watched him closely for the last 2 hours. Stiles decides that today is the day he is going to make a move on Derek. Hope for the best and all that jazz.

Because Derek is in the audience they aren’t ever able to ride back to the hotel together. They generally meet up either in the room or at the bar.

Stiles makes it to his room, freshens up, then heads for the bar to meet Scott. When he spots him alone Stiles decides to tell his best friend what he plans to do.

“Good for you, man!” Scott claps him on the back. “It’s about time.”

Stiles smiles, nerves hitting him harder than when he goes on stage. He and Derek have been growing closer and closer for the last month. They talk all the time. They stay up all night in hotel rooms talking, curl up in a bunk on the tour bus and debate over which Star Wars movie is best, and when they aren’t together they text constantly.

There is no way Derek doesn’t at least like Stiles a little. Scott and Stiles were best friends and they _never_ talked or texted this much. This is something _more._

Stiles looks up to see Derek walking into the hotel bar. He’s got a few days of scruff running down his neck, his hair it shining blue when the strobe lights hit it, his jacket stretches as Derek’s arms swing at his sides.

Derek meets Stiles eyes across the bar smiling wide.

“Abort. Abort. Abort!” Stiles panics, grabbing Scott by the shoulder. “Nope. Nope. Nope! I can’t do this! Scott!”

Scott peels his fingers off his shoulder. “I know. It’s okay. Relax.”

Stiles looks at his friend, drawing his eyebrows together. “You know?”

Scott rolls his eyes like Stiles’ inability to take a risk is the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yea. I knew there was a reason I always hated you.” Stiles mumbles smiling to Derek when he finally makes it to their table.

“Are you guys tired of hearing me say how good your shows are every night?” Derek grins raising a finger for a waitress to order them a round of drinks.

“Nah” Stiles waves a hand. “It’s always nice to feel appreciated.”

Derek squints at Stiles and Stiles winks back at him to say, _yes, I am referencing what you said during that mighty fine foot rub._ Then Stiles quirks an eyebrow to say, _feel free to give me another anytime._

Derek shakes his head understanding Stiles. They have grown to read each other’s faces pretty damn well. Especially, on the _rare_ occasion that Kate is around.

When she’s around they aren’t very social. Kate gets pissy. She wants Derek all to herself. Stiles doesn’t let it bother him because as soon as she disappears again, Derek will be in his hotel room, or in his bunk, or texting him.

Stiles wishes that thought was as dirty as it sounded to an outsider. He really did.

 _Eventually_ , Stiles promises himself. _Eventually_.

 

**November 29, 2010**

Derek is stretched out in Stiles bunk along side him, both of them watching the Mets highlights. Stiles knows they aren’t catching as much as they should, both of them filled to the brim with beer from their night out after the show.

Stiles inhales deeply, growing fond of the smoke that clings to Derek’s clothes. Anytime Stiles smells smoke these days, he immediately looks for Derek.

Derek has always smoked, but he smokes more now, every time he gets in a fight with Kate Stiles finds him outside chain smoking. When they hang out, Derek doesn’t smoke as much though. Call Stiles a bad person, but every time he finds Derek smoking he can’t help but feel hopeful. If Derek and Kate are fighting, then Stiles has a better chance of getting his hands on Derek.

The bus hits a hard turn and Stiles’ body is thrown into Derek. Their faces only inches from each other. Their eyes lock. Stiles doesn’t remember making a conscious thought to do it, but he finds his hand on Derek’s face, caressing his cheek bone, and scratching his stubble.

“You’re so pretty.” Stiles smiles, counting the colors in Derek’s eyes.

Derek blinks, still not pushing Stiles off. “Are you flirting with me?”

Stiles swallows, realizing what he has done. He tries for a smile rolling back over to his respective side of the small bunk. “Nah, I don’t need to flirt. I will seduce you with my awkwardness.” Stiles winks toward Derek then returns his focus to the small screen still covering tonight's stats of the Mets game.

Derek doesn’t say anything, but Stiles still counts it as a win. Derek didn’t get up and leave like he was uncomfortable.

Stiles was careful with Derek, knowing that Derek had never been with a guy and maybe had never even thought about being with a guy before. It’s a bit intimidating when you first realize you like another guy, especially if that guy is experienced. Not to mention, if your girlfriend is this guy’s manager, so you kind of have some sick Romeo and Juliette thing going on if you and said guy ever did anything together. There was just no happy ending to it.

Stiles did his best not to think about this. Just ignoring the problem until it went away. It would never go away though, and that scared the hell out of Stiles.

Somehow, his band were all supportive of the blooming connection he and Derek were developing. They all wanted Stiles to be happy. When Stiles would bring up the Kate issue they would roll their eyes and say something along the lines of _well if she were around more and actually gave a shit about her boyfriend then you wouldn’t have gotten to know each other in the first place._

Stiles couldn’t help but agree with them.

His friends were the best.

It’s the first night Derek doesn’t leave Stiles’ bunk to sleep in his own.

 

**December 5, 2010**

**Derek: She’s been on the phone for the last hour and a half. The food’s cold.**

Kate was actually at the hotel tonight, and Derek was having dinner with her, trying to spend time with her.

Stiles would be lying if he said he wasn’t sad to come back to his hotel alone that night. He and Derek had become inseparable the last two months.

**Stiles: I’m sorry, bud. But don’t let her catch you texting me. Don’t want you guys to have another fight.**

Every time Derek mentions the band around Kate, she loses her mind, she’s even done it _in front of the band._ It’s really awkward for everyone involved.

**Derek: I could strip and pound on my chest like Tarzan and she probably wouldn’t even notice.**

Stiles can’t stop the laugh that punches out of his chest at that. The image too much for his brain.

**Stiles: I’d like to see that.**

He panics reading what he just said.

**Stiles: lol**

Crisis averted.

**Derek: You’re not like other guys.**

**Stiles: Oh good you know about the tentacles.**

Stiles can almost hear Derek smacking his forehead on the next floor. Stiles giggles for at least a minute before he gets another text.

**Derek: Just add that to the list.**

**Stiles: What list?**

**Derek: New things.**

**Stiles: I’m not following.**

**Derek: Nevermind.**

Stiles taps a rhythm on his phone trying to figure out what exactly Derek was trying to say. Stiles stayed in denial as often as possible. He refused to let his imagination run away from him, unless it was late at night in a hotel room with no one around. Then Stiles indulged in all of his fantasies.

Specifically, the ones starring Derek.

Stiles’ gut knew that Derek was trying to admit that he had a thing for Stiles. Everyone else knew he had a thing for Stiles.

Stiles just couldn’t believe it until it was said in plain english. He had plenty of experience reading people wrong and ruining a friendship with his own interest.

**Stiles: okay…**

**Derek: Don’t worry about it, Stiles. :) Everything is fine. She’s off the phone, so I’ll text you later?**

Stiles deflates more.

**Stiles: Okay.**

Stiles proceeds to get himself drunker than he has been in months. With Derek around he only drank enough to loosen himself up, but not drunk enough to lose all inhibition.

Tonight? Derek was with Kate. Tonight? Stiles was alone. Tonight? Stiles was going to drink the longing away.

He let Isaac, Scott, and Lydia believe he had called it a night. That he wanted to catch up on sleep since they weren’t leaving until the next day. What he was really doing was ordering a lot of room service, ordering way too many lifetime movies, and dancing around in his underwear.

All things considered it was turning into a pretty damn good night.

Stiles had a red vine hanging from his mouth when his phone chimed.

**Derek: Her phone rang while we were in bed and she answered it, Stiles. She ANSWERED it!**

Stiles night immediately plummets.

It’s not like he didn’t know, okay? He knew that Derek and Kate obviously slept together. Somehow though, he let himself ignore that face. Having it right in front of his face stung more than a little.

Stiles can’t bring himself to answer Derek. All he wants to say is _if you were with me i’d ignore a whole show to stay in bed with you._

He knows he can’t say that.

**Derek: Stiles?**

**Derek: Are you sleeping?**

**Stiles: I’m here.**

**Derek: Are you okay? Why didn’t you answer me?**

Stiles rolls his eyes.

**Stiles: Because I’m drunk.**

**Derek: That’s never stopped you from texting me before.**

**Stiles: Well I haven’t been this drunk in awhile.**

Derek takes a few minutes to respond and Stiles chews away at his cuticles.

**Derek: Did something happen?**

**Stiles: no.**

**Derek: Are you okay?**

**Stiles: Yep.**

**Derek: Stiles.**

**Stiles: Derek.**

Stiles phone starts to ring in his hand. Stiles ignores Derek’s call. He knows he’s being stupid, and that Derek is worried, but he cannot trust his mouth.

**Derek: Stiles, I know you’re there.**

Stiles huffs. “Yea and I know you were in bed with Kate trying to fuck her when she doesn’t give two shits about you. She only cares about you when pictures might be taken so she can show off her hot boyfriend.”

**Derek: Why won’t you talk to me?**

Stiles shouts at the screen of his phone. “Because you’re an idiot and I hate you!”

He takes a breath. Then finally types out a reply, knowing that Kate will be MIA soon enough and he still wants Derek to spend time with him.

**Stiles: Because I don’t trust my mouth or my fingers. Really drunk, remember?**

**Derek: You mentioned that. Want me to join you?**

“Oh my GOD!” Stiles shouts.

**Stiles: No. What did I just say?**

**Derek: That you’re drunk. And I’d like to be too.**

**Stiles: Before that.**

**Derek: What are you trying to tell me, Stiles. I really don’t understand.**

**Stiles: Of course you don’t.**

Stiles phone rings again.

**Stiles: Stop.**

There’s a voicemail. Stiles clicks play.

“Stiles. I don’t know what I did, or what someone else did to upset you, but I’m worried. Tell me how to fix it. I’ll do anything. We’ve been there for each other through everything the last few months, and I honestly don’t know what I would do without you. You’re my best friend. Please talk to me.” Derek pauses. “Please, Stiles.”

Surprisingly, there isn’t another text waiting for him when he finishes the voicemail.

Stiles hates hearing Derek upset, but he doesn’t know what to say, and he knows that there is no way he could play it cool tonight with Derek in his inebriated state.

**Stiles: It’s fine. I’m just really drunk. I’m going to bed. See you tomorrow?**

**Derek: I don’t believe you. But okay. Goodnight.**

Stiles could go to sleep. He could let this blow over and start again tomorrow fresh, claim that he doesn’t remember why he was angry, blackout. Whatever. But Stiles is getting angry that Derek can’t see what is right in front of his face.

Stiles could ignore it if Derek were aware but ignoring it so that he wouldn’t hurt Stiles’ feelings. Like if every time Stiles’ made an advance, or flirted, Derek changed the subject, or acted like he didn’t hear him. Stiles could handle that. At least that way he would know that Derek didn’t reciprocate, but still wanted to be friends.

Instead, Derek is oblivious. Hurting Stiles over and over again.

**Stiles: Fuck you, Derek.**

Stiles throws his phone down in order to take another shot. His phone chimes instantly.

**Derek: What the fuck did I do?!**

**Derek: I don’t know how to fix it, if I don’t know what I did!**

**Stiles: Nothing.**

**Stiles: You did nothing wrong.**

**Derek: you’re a fucking liar.**

**Stiles: So?**

Stiles takes another shot. Because fuck Derek, that’s why.

He waits a few more minutes for a reply.

Fuck it.

**Stiles: All the clues are right in front of you. I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you, dumb ass. Everyone knows what the problem is but you.**

Stiles takes a few more shots. After a few minutes Derek texts.

**Derek: Kate?**

**Stiles: DING DING DING**

**Derek: because she’s a bitch… or…**

**Stiles: Or.**

**Derek: us?**

**Stiles: Us.**

**Derek: Stiles.**

**Stiles: Derek.**

**Derek: You’re making it really hard to talk to you.**

**Stiles: Sorry, not sorry.**

**Derek: I’m with Kate.**

**Stiles: Duh.**

**Stiles: Because you’re an idiot.**

**Derek: How does that make me an idiot?**

**Stiles: The fact you have to ask, proves it.**

There’s a few minutes while Derek decides how to respond. Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t.

**Derek: you got mad when I told you we were in bed together, didn’t you?**

**Stiles: Not mad…**

**Derek: But that was the problem, right?**

Stiles takes a deep breath, and opens a window.

**Stiles: yes.**

**Derek: I didn’t mean to hurt you, Stiles. I don’t want to hurt you.**

**Stiles: It’s fine. I can handle it.**

**Stiles: I don’t want you hurt either, Derek, and that’s why I got so angry.**

Stiles types it out before he can think better of it.

**Stiles: because if I were her I would never abandon you, or leave a bed you were in.**

There’s an extremely long pause. Stiles waits five minutes for Derek to reply. Stiles paces thinking he has officially ruined everything. He gets ready to call Isaac for emergency cuddles.

**Derek: I didn’t realize.**

**Stiles: don’t worry about it.**

**Derek: I can’t not worry about it, Stiles.**

**Derek: I don’t want to hurt you.**

**Derek: But this is all new to me okay?**

**Derek: I can’t give you what you want.**

The messages come so fast Stiles stops trying to respond.

**Derek: At least I don’t think I can.**

**Derek: And it would cause everyone more problems if Kate found out.**

**Derek: and if I broke up with her I wouldn’t get to stay with you guys on tour.**

**Stiles: I know.**

**Derek: Tell me what you’re thinking.**

**Stiles: All I can think about is how much I want you in my life. Even if only a friend. And how it hurts to hear about how Kate treats you, because you deserve so much better, Derek.**

**Stiles: You deserve a love like your parents have.**

**Stiles: and that may not be with me, but it sure as fuck isn’t Kate.**

**Stiles: You deserve better.**

**Derek: Open your door.**

Stiles head flies up as there’s a tap against it.

Only then does it register what he has done.

“Fuck, me.”

Derek doesn’t knock again. Doesn’t text. Just lets Stiles decide what he wants to do.

Stiles slowly pulls the door open. “Derek, i’m so sorry. I’ve had a lot to drink.”

“Did you mean it?” Derek asks with big eyes, not trying to enter the room, still waiting for Stiles to invite him in. “Did you mean what you said, about you…” Derek drops his eyes, swallowing hard.

Stiles blinks a few times, trying to determine if Derek is afraid the answer is yes, or praying for the answer to be yes. Because the answer is _yes._ Stiles meant every damn word. More, even.

Stiles can’t say it though, and for some ungodly reason he finds himself asking where Kate is.

“Don’t care.” Derek clips. “ _Did you mean it?”_

Stiles sighs dropping his hand from the door. “Yes, of course. But you don’t have to-”

Stiles is cut off by Derek shoving into the room and grabbing Stiles face.

Derek is kissing him.

It’s rough, and clumsy, and awkward.

Stiles can feel Derek’s nerves through every pore of Derek’s body. Hell, the neighbors probably could.

Stiles finds his footing and walks Derek backwards. The door was still wide open, and Stiles wasn’t ready for anyone to know about this.

Whatever _this_ was.

When Derek’s back hits the door they brake apart. Derek looks terrified.

Stiles steps back, leaving his hands on Derek’s waist. “Derek. You look like you are about to throw up.”

“I’m not.” Derek shakes his head.

Stiles tilts his head at him, squinting. Stiles wants to kiss Derek more than anything else, but he won’t take advantage. He wants Derek to be comfortable. “Derek, I don’t want to pressure you into anything.”

Derek shakes his head harder. “You’re not.” Derek pulls Stiles in by his hips. “You’re not.”

Derek’s face relaxes a little bit so Stiles takes that as a queue.

Stiles leans forward slowly, Derek’s head tilting automatically, and kisses Derek gently. In a much more calm, and precise way than before.

They kiss for a while, neither of them wanting to pull away, both of them holding each other close. Both mapping out the inside of the other’s mouth.

Finally, Stiles does. “You taste _so_ good.” He breathes, eyes closed, over Derek’s face.

“You taste like whiskey.” Derek laughs.

Stiles laughs full bodied. Makes sense that he would, considering that he’s almost put away an entire handle by himself.

“You’re also, only wearing boxers.” Derek adds with a smirk.

There’s the Derek, Stiles likes.

Stiles throws his head back in full laughter. “That is very true.”

They don’t do anything more that night, aside from eat, drink, and watch lifetime. It’s still a great night though, and for the first time in a while, Stiles doesn’t feel so hopeless.

 

**December 11, 2010**

“How are we feeling tonight, San Diego?” Stiles yells from center stage to a screaming audience.

They are about halfway though a show, and Stiles damn near has a crick in his neck from trying to keep his eyes on Derek at the corner of the stage.

After the night Derek showed up at his hotel door, and kissed him, they haven’t stopped kissing. Kate has been MIA as usual, only stopping by to make sure the band knows where they are going next, and to escort them to interviews occasionally.

Honestly, no one really knows what she does when she isn’t with them. They don’t complain though because everyone knows she’s a bitch. Derek issue aside, they have never liked Kate, but she has been their manager since the beginning, and she is the only reason they have made it as far as they have.

She’s still a bitch though.

One night, she took Derek along to a business meeting. Stiles sat down with Scott, Isaac, and Lydia and made sure they were really okay with him putting their lives at risk.

Dramatic? Yes.

Still true? Definitely.

If Kate finds out about them, she will make all of their lives hell.

Scott just smiles and says, “She already does. Make yourself happy man.”

“It’s just circumstance.” Lydia adds.

Isaac squeezes Stiles shoulder, “You and Derek would have hit it off anyway.”

After confirming for the tenth time that he has their blessing he finally allows himself to think about Derek long term.

That night they all came together and wrote a song.

The same song that Stiles was about to sing.

“Normally we don’t sing new songs until the next album is about to drop, but we’ve never been really good about following rules.” Stiles smirks at Isaac.

The crowd screams in excitement.

Lydia leans into her microphone. “This is literally the first time anyone has heard it, aside from us. We haven’t even recorded it. So, please be gentle!”

Stiles looks at Derek when the lights lower, bracing himself.

Derek gives him a small nod of encouragement.

“[Where is your boy tonight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Q7O2E7m-9I) _, I hope he is a gentleman. Maybe he won’t find out what I know. You were the last good thing about this part of town.”_

Isaac comes in on guitar.

Stiles watched the understanding cross Derek’s face. This song is about Kate.

“ _When I wake up, I’m willing to take my chances on the hope I forget that you hate him more than you notice.”_ Stiles raises an eyebrow at Derek. “ _I wrote this for you.”_

Derek ducks his head, arms crossed.

“ _You need him, I could be him. I could be an accident but I’m still trying! That’s more than I could say for him.”_ Stiles knows that he and Derek haven’t known each other long. This could be a mistake, but he’s a hell less of a mistake than Kate.

Kate doesn’t care.

At least Stiles does.

“ _Where is your boy tonight, I hope he is a gentleman. Maybe he won’t find out what I know. You were the last good thing about this part of town.”_

Derek smiles at Stiles, shaking his head fondly.

Stiles finally starts utilizing the stage. Up until this point he has been so worried about how Derek would react that he hadn’t really engaged with the audience.

“ _Someday I’ll appreciate in value. Get off my ass and call you, but for the meantime I’ll sport my new fashion of waking up with pants on at four in the afternoon.”_ They still hadn’t done anything but kiss. Stiles wasn’t frustrated over it though. He would wake up with pants on every day if it meant waking up next to Derek.

“ _You need him, I could be him. I could be an accident but I’m still trying! That’s more than I could say for him.”_

Scott chants “ _1-2-3-4!”_

“ _Where is your boy tonight, I hope he is a gentleman. Maybe he won’t find out what I know. You were the last good thing about this part of town.”_ Stiles raises his eyebrow at Derek again silently asking where Kate is.

Derek good naturedly raises his hands in an ‘ _I dunno’_ gesture.

They break for an instrumental bridge.

Isaac comes in, _“Won’t find out!”_

“ _He won’t find out!”_ Stiles follows.

They repeat the two lines and then Stiles repeats the chorus, waving his arms with the audience. Then he proceeds to jump all over the stage as they finish the song with another round of the chorus.

Stiles points at Derek. “ _You were the last good thing, about this part of town!_ ”

Toward the end of the show Derek disappears from his corner of the stage. Stiles does his best not to panic. He probably just needed to pee or something.

They tell San Diego good night and exit the stage. Stiles barely makes it to his dressing room when he’s pulled into a closet.

“You know I would break up with her if you told me to. But we agreed that I shouldn’t.” Derek’s eyebrows are knit together, searching Stiles face in the darkness.

Stiles rests his hands on Derek’s hips. “I know. Doesn’t make it suck any less.”

They had discussed the Kate issue pretty intensely. If Derek ended things then he wouldn’t be on tour with them, and Stiles wouldn’t be able to see him for awhile, _especially_ if Kate knew why Derek wanted to break up.

They also didn’t feel too bad about sneaking around because she was never around, and clearly didn’t care about Derek in the first place.

Also, as twisted as it sounded, whether Derek was with Kate or not, they would still be sneaking around. Stiles hadn’t come out to the public about his orientation, and his contract had a ‘No Gay Play’ amendment.

When Stiles signed the contract he didn’t think it would be a big deal. How would he maintain any kind of relationship while on the road?

In conclusion, they decided not to end things with Kate because it would be better for everyone all around if they tried to keep things the way they were as long as possible.

The only thing Stiles asked of Derek was that he not sleep with Kate again.

He knew this could raise flags with Kate at some point, but they would cross that when they got there.

Even if Derek wasn’t sleeping with Stiles, Stiles knew he couldn’t handle hearing about or worrying that Derek was sleeping with Kate.

“Stiles?” Derek brushes a finger across his cheekbone. “Everything okay?”

Stiles nods, “Yea. Just thinking.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Derek asks.

“Nah, let’s just get back to the bus.” Stiles shakes his head. “We have a long drive ahead of us.”

Derek presses his lips to Stiles’ before opening the door and leading the way toward the back of the building to find the bus where they cuddle up together in a bunk.

Sober.

 

**December 25, 2010**

**Derek: The airport lost my bags, and now I have to wait for new contacts to mail to my house.**

Miraculously, the tour allowed a three day break for them to all go home and see their families.

Stiles was back home at the Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department having dinner with his dad. They were catching up on everything, specifically - if Stiles was doing drugs, drinking himself into a coma, smoking, sleeping around - basically, everything that could be harmful (or fun) to him.

Stiles told him he wasn’t doing any drugs, he drank a lot - but not to the point of excess, he didn’t smoke, he wasn’t sleeping around either. Which led him to tell his dad about Derek.

He carefully left out the part about him being Kate’s boyfriend.

Before his dad could further investigate he was called out for a domestic disturbance. Stiles waited in his dad’s office, hoping he would come back sooner rather than later. He tried to tag along, but his dad strongly refused.

Stiles texted Derek to pass the time.

**Stiles: Awe, poor bb.**

**Derek: Thanks.**

Stiles could feel the eye roll.

**Derek: Now I have to wear my glasses.**

**Stiles: You have glasses?**

**Derek: You’re kidding, right?**

Now, Stiles rolled his own eyes.

**Stiles: Well, excuse me.**

**Derek: Sorry, I just really hate them. They make me look like an idiot.**

**Stiles: Well, you’re the perfect idiot for me.**

Stiles was still grinning like a loon when Derek responded.

**Derek: You’re frustrating.**

**Stiles: You’re pretty. :)**

Stiles knows he’s driving Derek crazy. But Stiles can finally say these things, okay? It’s not weird for him to hit on Derek. Not weird to appreciate his appearance.

**Stiles: I’m sure you’re still hot with glasses.**

**Stiles: but tbh, not even leprosy could make you unattractive. So….**

**Derek: Yea, if parts of me are falling off, don’t hit on me. Call an ambulance.**

Stiles laughs so hard he falls out of his dad’s chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take a moment to thank [QuiteContrary](http://mmquitecontrary.tumblr.com/) my own personal cheerleader, who is the ONLY reason this chapter was finished today. Everyone, say thank you for she made this happen. 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Luh ya cuties!


	5. I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout suffers the back lash of their fiery performance. Stiles runs away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Present Day!  
> Please don't hate me.  
> Please see end notes for more information on added tags if they might trigger you.  
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.
> 
> Aside from that! Enjoy!

They exit the stage after what is surely the most heated performance of the year, and the band is immediately greeted by the studio’s security detail.

They aren’t surprised by this, and Lydia is practically preening at the attention. She gives a final wave to the audience and links her arm with Stiles’. “This is going to be _fun_.”

A bulky security guard holds out an arm to the four of them. “Please come with me.” He speaks into his walkie. “I have them, bring the car around back.”

Stiles looks to his friends to see how they are holding up, and to see if they are regretting their decision. There is no telling what is just around the corner for them.

Both Isaac and Scott are sporting the same smug grin as Lydia.

Stiles looks for _Were_ ! but doesn’t locate them, he begins to worry but is put out of his misery when he hears a walkie inform them that _Were! at the Disco_ is en route to their next destination and officially off studio property.

Behind the building they are greeted by a mass of fans which isn’t anything new.

Scott blows them kisses since they aren’t able to personally interact with them. They are being ushered to a waiting town car without any room for negotiation.

Stiles makes sure to smile as much as possible after seeing a few worried faces in the crowd. Isaac sees them too and sends very enthusiastic thumbs their way. The drooping faces start to perk back up.

Just before they slide into the car, Lydia holds up her phone. “Check out our feed! Another round of the Shelter Games is up!”

She isn’t able to say more because the bulky security guard blocks her from view, slowly insisting she get into the car.

When the door is shut both Isaac and Scott bust out laughing.

“Dude! Did you see Kelly’s face?” Scott smacks the back of the seat from behind Stiles. “She looked like she was going to shit herself!”

Isaac rubs his hands together. “Kate probably did!”

“Guys,” Stiles starts. “I’m happy you’re happy, but we have some shit coming, so we need to solidify.”

Lydia flips her hair over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Stiles.”

Stiles doesn’t look at her, how can he _not_ worry?

“Look, we’ve talked about this. Danny and I went over every inch of our contract, and there is nothing they can do to us. They are trapped representing us just as much as we are stuck with their representation.” She rubs a thumb over his shoulder in a soothing manner. “They also failed to write anything in about what _actually_ goes into our performances, just _when and where_ we actually perform.”

“Which we did.” Isaac grins.

“The worst thing we have coming will be a verbal lashing, maybe a busier schedule to make time for a public apology, who cares.” Lydia adds.

Scott ruffles Stiles’ hair. “Not me.”

Stiles chews at his cuticles as he watches cars pass by. He wishes Derek was in the car with him.

He wishes a lot of things.

They pull up to Argent Records and are escorted into the building by waiting security.

“I feel like the president!” Scott calls good naturedly.

Once inside Allison escorts them up to Chris’ office. “That was better than I ever imagined.” Allison smiles as they ride up the elevator.

They don’t keep anything from Allison, she is on their side. As soon as their contract is up Allison will take over representation for them. They don’t have a problem with _Argent Records_ , just one Argent in particular. They still had to go through all the proper formalities though.

“Kate’s furious. I got a play by play from her assistant. She broke things.” Allison smirks.

“Fuck, yes!” Scott fist pumps in accomplishment. “I can die happy now.”

Her smile fades for a moment as she meets Lydia’s eyes. “My dad is upset, too. He’s mad we didn’t tell him, so that he would have had a chance to talk you out of it.”

Lydia gets ready to argue.

“I know!” Allison holds up a hand. “He’s just looking out for the label, and what you did does reflect on the whole company, and not just Kate. He has to think about this from a business standpoint.”

The elevator chimes as they reach the right floor.

“He’s still trying to find a loophole in your contract.” Allison reminds them, stepping out of the elevator.

Chris was on their side too, he knew his sister was taking her anger out on the band for what Stiles and Derek had done. He wanted to free them from her just as badly as they did.

Like Allison said, though, he had to look at the situation from a business point of view.

Allison leaves them at Chris’ door after wishing them good luck.

For the first time since the performance they all look like they might regret their decision. All of them sporting the same shame face because Chris is sitting with his arms crossed, and a sad, disappointed frown on his face. Like that of a disappointed father.

Chris breathes heavily through his nose. “For the record, you guys have caused us a lot of trouble today. It’s chaos in the office right now. So, thank you, for that.” There isn’t any appreciation to his voice. “There will obviously be repercussions for this. Our legal team is already combing through your contracts making sure we don’t violate any terms when we do.” He clears his throat. “Kate is on her way. I can’t stop her from how she speaks to you, but I can promise that she will not violate your contract. For what it’s worth.” He looks to Stiles, the corners of his eyes drooping.

Stiles nods, swallowing, and uses the eye contact to ask what has been bothering him. “Derek?” Stiles clears his throat. “Will this affect Derek?”

Chris shakes his head, leaning forward on his elbows. “No. _Were! at the Disco_ isn’t associated with Kate at all. Allison will take care of them. Now, if Kate catches Derek alone, there is no telling what she might do…”

Stiles nods at his feet.

“Now, off the record.” Chris grins.

Stiles looks to Isaac who’s lips are parted slightly, eyes wide, and eyebrows drawn.

“That was your best music video yet.” Chris smiles wide at the stunned faces before him. “I can tell you all put a lot of work into it, and I can only imagine what it must have taken to get the other artists involved. I’m sure you have Danny on this too.”

They nod slowly to confirm.

“Our web team is already fighting to take down every upload on the internet, even if their efforts are for nigh.” Chris rolls his eyes. “Please, ask Danny if he would reconsider again, will you?”

Chris has been trying to recruit Danny for a while, wanting him in the office and on their team. Danny prefers to freelance if he isn’t on tour with the band working tech, editing a video for them, or putting in extra time as a personal trainer for them.

Danny is their jack of all trades.

But only for them, not _Argent Records_.

Before they can continue their conversation there is a tap at the door. Chris welcomes the guest in.

“Kate Argent requests your presence.” The young brunette chirps.

They all stand up bracing themselves for what is to come, smoothing out their clothes.

“Sorry, just Stiles. She only wants to see Stiles.” Her voices is noticeably softer.

Scott puts his body between Stiles and the door. Lydia raises an eyebrow at Chris. Isaac creates a barrier from behind Stiles.

They were all prepared for the backlash, but they never considered having to face it alone. They _always_ had each other.

Stiles lays one hand on Scott’s shoulder, the other tangles through Lydia’s hair, and he tries a smile at Isaac who isn’t buying it. “It’s okay, guys. I’ll see you all after. Have a drink waiting for me? Star Wars, maybe?”

They groan not wanting to watch any of the movies for the hundredth time, but nod before giving silent encouragement and strength. Scott gives him a hug before letting him through the door.

Kate’s office is eerily quiet.

Stiles squares his shoulders before pushing through the door.

The second the door is shut, Stiles is shoved against a wall with a forearm to his throat.

“You think you’re really fucking cute, don’t you?” She spits, centimeters from his face.

Stiles knees her in the stomach. If she was going to lay her hands on him, he had the right to fight back.

She buckles back. “You peice of shit! You are going to pay for that!”

“Do your worst.” Stiles says low, through slim eyes, daring her.

She chokes.

Stiles turns toward the door, keeping his eyes on her out of the corner of his eyes, knowing that he stunned her into silence. “There isn’t anything else you could possibly do to me.”

She finds her voice. “You sure about that? I could stop scheduling you for events. Let you fall of the map. Would you really do that to your _friends_?”

Stiles rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “There is nothing in our contract that says we can’t schedule our own shows. And my friends support me, I don’t do _anything_ without us all _agreeing_.”

She purses her lips, eyes shooting fire. “I could remove _Were_! from the tour.”

“Allison is the only one with any say over them, and we have the right to choose our own artist.”

“I could take Derek from you, then.” She smirks, propping her hand on her hip.

Stiles doesn’t even constitute that with a response, he throws his head back laughing, reaching for the door knob. There was literally nothing more she could do. Stiles came in here thinking he was just going to get a verbal lashing, a _bitch fit_. Insead, he was assaulted and every nerve in his body ignited, much like their performance earlier.

She clicks her tongue, “I could tell Derek the truth.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow at her, pausing for a second. “Go ahead. Then I won’t have to.”

She continues, tilting her head to the side with a sly smile on her face. “Tell him how you took advantage of him. Used my busy schedule to get your _dick wet_ . Drove a wedge through us. That the _only_ reason he was in that car with me was because he felt _guilty_. That he cheated on me with a guy who didn’t care about him for a second.”

Stiles slowly turns his head toward her, squinting. “That would be a lie, and you know it.”

She smiles, twisting the end of her curls. “That’s the _beauty_ of it though. All Derek _remembers_ is _me_ . How we grew up together. How we fell in _love_ . How much he _cared_ about me. _You_ ? You mean nothing. You _meant_ nothing. _You never will.”_

Stiles tries to keep his face emotionless. He doesn’t need her to know that this threat actually has any weight to it.

Sure Stiles knows that what he and Derek had comes nowhere close to what she is saying. That no one would believe it. But like she said, Derek didn’t _remember._

Stiles leaves, if he argued he would be giving her exactly what she wanted, playing into her games.

Her cackle follows him all the way to the elevator.

Stiles finally checks his phone after asking the driver to drive around for a bit while he clears his head.

**Derek: That was incredible!**

**Derek: Why didn’t you tell anyone?**

**Derek: Are you going to be in trouble?**

**Derek: They sent us back to the hotel, we’re waiting on you guys. Erica told me to tell you that you all are her hero.**

**Derek: Jackson wants in on the next round of anarchy.**

**Derek: Boyd said drinks are on him tonight.**

**Derek: Let me know when you get this, so I know you are okay?**

**Derek: We’re worried. Scott, Isaac, and Lydia are here and they said they left you with Kate.**

Stiles grimaces at how worried Derek must be. They aren’t close in any way yet. Yea, they make out occasionally. They talk when they are around each other. But Stiles has to screw his mouth shut every other sentence because he’s not supposed to know about Derek’s family. Derek’s interests. Derek’s favorites. Derek’s past. He can’t smoothe Derek’s frustrations away with a strong thumb. He can’t climb into his bunk on the bus when he can’t sleep. He can’t invite Derek home with him when they are near Beacon Hills to officially meet his dad. He can’t tell him he _loves_ him.

He just _can’t_.

He could tell Derek the truth about their past. Stiles has thought about it many times since he saw Derek in Lydia’s dressing room during that first show a few months ago.

About telling Derek how much he’s missed him and that he knows Derek doesn’t remember him, but he hasn’t stopped loving him. He has written dozens of songs about him. That he hasn’t been the same since he lost him. That Derek is the only one for him.

To _beg_ him to remember.

Stiles can’t do that though. Can’t do that to Derek. Can’t ask him to try and love him like he did before when he can’t even remember why he loved him to begin with. Stiles wouldn’t even know where to begin to rekindle their love, not when he knows everything all ready and is ready for the next step. How does one go back to the beginning in a situation like this?

That aside, he still can’t bring himself to voice their history because of how _happy_ Derek is. Derek has new friends, friends he would do anything for. They have managed to make something of themselves. Celebrating every new interview, music video, performance, photoshoot, and paycheck.

Derek isn’t living the same life as before and it would be selfish for Stiles to throw a wrench into all they had.

Stiles reads the other texts he has.

**Isaac: Where are you? Are you still with Kate?**

**Scott: We have a bottle of your favorite whiskey, and a shot glass with your name on it.**

**Scott: Star Wars Episode III is already in the DVD player.**

**Lydia: Allison told me you left half an hour ago. Where are you?**

Stiles knows he should let them know he’s okay, but he needs a few more minutes to collect himself.

**Danny: The video has gone viral. For every video that is taken down another 3 are uploaded in its place.**

**Danny: The plan worked.**

**Danny: Have you had a chance to look online at the fans response?**

**Danny: I imagine you are busy. Let me know if you need anything, I’m not doing anything, just sitting at home while we are still in town. I’m proud of you guys.**

Stiles calls to the front of the car, spitting out an address before he can stop himself.

Stiles doesn’t look at the hundreds of notifications he has from twitter, or his missed calls, or his emails.

Stiles sends a mass text to his friends and Derek.

**Stiles: You guys are the best. I know I asked for drinks and Star Wars but I think I want to be alone for the night. I’ll let you know the minute I change my mind.**

Stiles knows he’s lying. The address he gave the driver was Danny’s. He just can’t be around Derek right now. Doesn’t want to have to both pretend for _Were!_ that the worst thing going on is contractual issues with the record label _and_ acknowledge with his friends that Kate took it out extra hard on him because of Derek.

He can’t play both sides.

Not tonight.

**Scott: Bro.**

**Scott: Ok :(**

**Isaac: If you need cuddles, my bed is available. No matter how late you get in.**

**Lydia: Alright, love. Tell Danny, hi. :)**

Stiles rolls his eyes at Lydia. Of course she knows.

**Derek: Guess I’m going to have to watch the movie without you.**

**Derek: Lydia told me you should be fine with the label. I hope you’re okay.**

Stiles doesn’t text any of them back. He’s only a few blocks from Danny’s. He sends a quick text to Danny.

**Stiles: Hey, can open the gate and let me in?**

A few seconds later the electric gate drifts open letting the car into the driveway. It’s not a big house, but when Stiles spent all of his time here he had a gate put up. Reporters figured out where he was hiding out and harassed Danny. Stiles had to protect him. Make up for how Danny was personally holding him together at the seams.

Danny is already waiting for him on the porch when Stiles climbs out of the car.

Stiles plasters a smile to his face on reflex. “Hey, Danny ol’ buddy, ol’ pal!”

Danny crosses his arms unimpressed.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Stiles shrugs, planting his feet in front of Danny. He finally lets his face fall, he doesn’t have to pretend with Danny. Danny has seen him at his absolute lowest and never pushed him away. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Danny looks between his eyes for a second before nodding and wrapping a strong arm around Stiles shoulders to lead him inside. Once the door is locked Stiles wraps his arms around Danny.

They don’t say anything. Danny only squeezing his arms tighter minutely. Stiles buries his face in Danny’s collar, inhaling the Armani deeply. The only scent of comfort a few years ago.

Danny rubs a stripe up Stiles’ spine. “You wanna talk about it?”

Stiles shakes his head against Danny’s neck. “Not yet. Wanna show me what’s going on with the interwebs?”

Danny pats his back. “Sure.”

They walk up stairs to Danny’s computer room. A few screens have scripts running on them, probably uploading their video all over the place. Hacking. Who knows. Danny was a very dangerous person to be on the wrong side of.

Danny pulls out a chair for Stiles to sit, then pulls up numerous web pages. Articles about the mess they had created. Conspiracy theories. Guesses at what _Argent Record’s_ response will be. What must have happened to cause _Fallout_ to create such a scene. Then he pulls up twitter, and a handful of other social sites.

“Your fans are the most supportive I think I have _ever_ seen.” Danny flashes Stiles a dimple. “They are fighting for you. Starting petitions to have you released from your contract. Uploading the video everywhere. Trolling the label for trying to kill the video.” Danny waves a hand at the monitors indicating how much more the fans are doing.

Stiles smiles a small, shy smile. He knew his fans were great, but he never imagined…

They read through tweets for awhile. Silently ignoring the elephant in the the room.

Until Stiles can’t anymore.

“I’m never going to get him back.” Stiles twists his fingers in his lap.

Danny turns to him, knocking their knees together. “What are you talking about? He’s back…”

Stiles rolls his eyes at Danny. “Let’s not pretend, Danny.”

Danny’s shoulders drop with his sigh. “Okay. You just have to give it time, Stiles.”

“I don’t know how to do this.” Stiles looks toward the door. “There’s no way to make this easy. I can’t _pretend_ nothing ever happened. Derek is so happy. I can’t ruin that.” He swallows, as Danny remains silent, looking up at him with his big brown eyes. “I thought having him on tour would finally ease my pain, you know? Having him there? But it hurts more somehow.”

Danny squeezes Stiles knee, rubbing circles into it.

“I wish he never came back.” Stiles sucks in a breath admitting it out loud. “I was finally okay. _Now_...I just wish he never came back.”

“Stiles, no you don’t. Don’t say that.” Danny looks broken. Like he needs to fix Stiles. His eyes dart all over Stiles searching for the ripped seam that needs to be stitched back up.

Stiles hates that look.

Stiles stands up and leaves the room. He finds Danny’s room, strips off his clothes and falls onto the mattress, wrapping himself in a burrito. Danny’s bed has always offered him solace. A safe place sheltered from the outside world.

He thinks about what he just said. He hadn’t admitted it to himself until just then. All he wanted for the last few years was to get Derek back, in any way possible. Now he had him, he should be happy, right?.

It was just _too painful._

With his face blocked from the sun, and outside world, Stiles finally let himself cry. It wasn’t a hard, wrathful cry, it was silent, and wet.

A few minutes later he felt the bed dip beside him in the most familiar way.

Danny wiggled himself under the blankets as well. He brushed Stiles tears away, kissing him on the forehead and pulling him into his chest.

“I’m so fucking pathetic. Why do you even like me?” Stiles tries to laugh.

Danny pets the back of his head, scratching at his nape. “Nonsense.”

Stiles sniffs loudly.

“You aren’t…” Danny pauses. “You aren’t falling back into it, are you?”

By _it_ Danny means _depression._ And all that Stiles depression entails.

 _Specifically_ , drugs.

Stiles has spent many nights half out of his mind with Danny, unable to cope. The only thing that allowed him peace was pharmaceuticals. Danny didn’t support the habit, but he kept him safe.

“No. I’m okay.” Stiles reassures. Stiles realizes that Danny has removed his shirt as well, out of habit. His bare chest against Stiles’ tear streaked cheek. Warm and comforting.

Stiles turns his face and mouths at Danny’s chest. The familiar taste of Danny’s skin dancing across his tongue.

“Stiles…” Danny warns.

Stiles pulls away, breathing over the wet patch of skin. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I just…”

Danny doesn’t push him away.

Stiles slides down to find Danny’s nipple. He mouths wetly at it, feeling Danny instinctively arch into it and let out a breathy moan.

“Stiles…”

Stiles worries at it with his teeth. “I’ll stop if you tell me to. You know I will.”

Danny doesn’t say anything.

Stiles just needs to feel in control of his own life. To feel something familiar. Something that doesn’t hurt. Some comfort. He takes Danny’s silence as permission and rolls him over to straddle him.

Stiles finds Danny harder than he is. That was never a problem though. Danny has always had a thing for Stiles, and maybe Stiles was an asshole for taking advantage of that, but Danny never asked Stiles to stop.

Danny’s face is creased with worry, even if his eyes are blown with lust. Danny reaches a hand up to rub at Stiles’ cheek. “Stiles, you don’t want to do this.”

Stiles shakes his head, leaning down to capture Danny in a rough kiss. “I do. Please. Make me feel good.”

Danny kisses him gently, threading his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “Stiles, I won’t sleep with you while you’re crying.”

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Only then does Stiles realize he’s still crying. A loud sob punches it’s way out of his throat.

Danny sits up with Stiles still in his lap and wraps his arms around his waist. “You don’t want this, Stiles.”

“I know.” Stiles chokes, “I’m so sorry.” Stiles sucks his teeth, trying to calm himself down.

All he wants is for Derek to remember. To go back to how things used to be. He realizes now that deep down he was imagining Derek under him. Or at least _tried_ to. _Clearly_ , he wasn’t very successful.

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re just upset, it’s okay.” Danny soothes, fingers smoothing circles into his spine.

Stiles cries until there aren’t any tears left. Danny remains silent letting Stiles get everything off his chest. Danny gets it.

When Stiles body goes slack, Danny rolls them over to cover Stiles and hold him as they fall asleep.

Danny, as comforting as ever, doesn’t let go of Stiles at any point during the night.

* * *

 

Derek has just finished watching the last _Star Wars_ movie, alone in his hotel room. He had actually been excited to watch them with Stiles. Everyone knew how big of a _Star Wars_ fan Stiles was, and Derek was excited to enjoy it with him. Share something he loves with someone who appreciates it more.

Stiles never came back to the hotel the night before, and it didn’t sound like he was coming back tonight either. At least Lydia made a point to tell him that Stiles was visiting a friend because Stiles never texted him back the day before.

Derek wasn’t _upset_ . It’s not like he and Stiles had any special kind of friendship. They just talked, and made out occasionally. He had nothing to be _upset_ about. They hardly knew each other.

Derek’s phone chimes next to him signaling another tweet from Lydia.

While Stiles was away visiting his friend, Lydia was keeping herself busy with the Shelter Games. She was interacting with the fans, giving away tickets, answering questions, posting pictures of her, Scott, and Isaac. Some of these pictures included Erica and Jackson who were more than happy to spend time with Lydia.

Derek wasn’t feeling up to it though, the idea of a movie marathon more appealing.

Now that the movies were over though he found himself thinking.

About Stiles.

Stiles was clearly upset. Everyone knew it. Derek only saw him for a moment on TV when they were giving an official statement for their behavior on Kelly’s show. It wasn’t anything big, or too degrading for them, thankfully. All they said was that they did it on their own and the label had nothing to do with it. They were very much happy with their success, and representation, but sometimes art does what it wants.

It was simple, and to the point. Not _Fallout’s_ point, but as close to the label’s point that they could get.

While Lydia, Isaac, and Scott all maintained an expression of a shamed children, Stiles sat off to the side, not speaking, and looking much like a petulant child who didn’t want to admit they had done something wrong.

Derek didn’t think they did. He knew Kate on a biblical level, _unfortunately._

He doesn’t remember much of how she was with her clients, because of his memory loss before the accident, but he remembers how even as children she enjoyed holding things over people’s heads.

Derek scratches the back of his head, locating the thick scar hidden beneath a length of hair. The scar that reminded him almost every day that he lost over a year of his life because of her reckless driving.

After the accident, after he was off the medications and was somewhat lucid again, he tried to ask Kate what had happened. He remembers her visiting him in the hospital the first day he was able to have visitors. She took a while to get there, but she did.

She showed up with her arms crossed over her chest, and an expression he couldn’t read. Like she was mad at him for something, which was ridiculous because she wasn’t the one in the hospital bed.

When he asked her what happened, she curled her lip and told him that he was a lying, cheating, scum bag, who caused an accident because he was an idiot.

Derek didn’t know what she was talking about and he told her as much.

She didn’t offer much more information after that, and the doctors soon discovered the brain damage. Derek had lost almost 2 years of memories.

Luckily, he still had all cognitive, thought processes in tact. He knew how to cook, clean, read, write, etc. He was mostly okay. Aside from the memory loss, he only had minor motor function disability. The doctors had promised that most, if not all, would come back with therapy. It took some time though.

After a week or so, Kate stopped visiting. Derek found himself not missing her. He wasn’t sure if he believed that he had cheated on her. He wasn’t the cheating type, at least he hoped he wasn’t. He did know Kate though. He knew how aggressive she was, she could have made it all up in her head and lost control of the car in a fit of paranoid rage.

When Derek had asked for proof that he had done anything wrong, she refused, said she didn’t have time, that she was only there to make sure Derek was okay. That was the day his mother told her to leave.

Maybe Kate stopped coming around because of his mom, or maybe because she didn’t care. Derek decidedly took it for the best.

Kate was never good for him, his family hated her, his friends had always hated her, and he kind of hated her too. Besides, he was in for a bumpy recovery process and the last thing he needed was Kate picking fights with him for something he couldn’t even remember doing.

Derek pulls his fingers away from his scar. If anyone knows how much of a bitch Kate is, it’s him.

He texts Stiles for the first time since the afternoon before.

**Derek: Kate’s a bitch.**

**Derek: Trust me, I know. We used to date.**

**Derek: If you wanna talk about it, just let me know.**

**Derek: Unless, you are over it. Then by all means enjoy yourself!**

Derek smacks himself in the forehead for his idiocy.

He always second guesses himself when he’s talking to Stiles. Stiles is literally the definition of hot and cold. Derek will say something stupid, or make an idiot of himself and Stiles seems to find that the most endearing, and then when Derek thinks things are going well, and he is more on his game than normal, Stiles, _just short_ of, runs away.

Derek wishes he understood Stiles better.

Later that night Derek gets an email from Allison letting them know to be ready at 6AM sharp, because they will be picked up to go film the _Girls/Girls/Boys_ music video.

Derek groans, getting up to get ready for bed. They had finally strong armed him into doing the music video. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous.

He texts Stiles one more time before turning off the light and going to sleep.

**Derek: We’re filming Girls/Girls/Boys tomorrow if you wanna come. We leave at 6.**

He really wants Stiles to be there.

He’s just about to close his eyes when his phone goes off.

**Stiles: I’ll meet you guys there.**

* * *

 

They arrive on set half awake and searching for coffee. Stiles shows up 10 minutes later with arms full of espresso.

Derek isn’t able to greet him because he has a group of makeup artists around him making him _presentable_ for the video. At this point Derek is pretty sure that if he tripped and fell he would slide at least ten feet due to the amount of baby oil covering his skin. They even put it in his hair so that he would be less likely to catch a cold, and they wouldn’t have to constantly re-wet it.

Erica and Boyd are curled up on the couch sipping their caffeine. Jackson is hitting on some poor girl, and Stiles is talking with Allison behind the film equipment.

Stiles looks good, looks rejuvenated, and Derek is only _mildly_ jealous of whoever was able to work the kinks out of Stiles’ muscles.

Once Derek is deemed ready for film, they instruct him to stand on his mark.

Derek’s pulse is pounding in his ears. He feels entirely too large for the small room. There’s no way to hide, every single person in the room has a full shot of his bare chest, and very low riding pants. He’s even more noticeable now that he’s under a number of white lights against a stark black backdrop.

He feels pale, and exposed.

He wants to go back to bed.

“Now just stay on the mark, and this should be over quickly.” The director announces from behind his equipment. “We are going to try and get this in one take.”

Derek swallows at that. No room for error.

“Just be sexy, engage with the camera, and tell the audience a story.”

Derek panics, he doesn’t connect to the story, he didn’t write the song. The crew ask if he’s ready and he grudgingly nods. The faster he gets through this, the faster he can curl up in bed and die.

The music starts and he misses his queue.

“Cut!” The director yells. “Derek, it’s okay, let’s just go again. And don’t stand so still…”

This happens at least five times. Derek misses his cue, his lips don’t sync, he’s stiff, etc.

Derek avoids Stiles’ eyes like the plague, he’s mortified.

After another failed take, when Derek thinks he might actually _cry_ with how lost he is, Stiles addresses the room. “Can we cut real quick?”

The director raises a hand to say, ‘ _Sure, not much else we can do._ ’

Derek hates that guy.

Stiles makes his way to Derek as everyone breaks apart refilling their cups, and checking their phones.

“What’s going on, big guy?” Stiles shoves his hands in his pockets. “You look like you want to throw up.”

“I do.” Is all Derek can manage, looking at his toes.

“Well you shouldn’t.” Stiles finds his eyes. “You’re seriously attractive, you know that? As far as looks, you have nothing to worry about. Trust me, I’ve seen the monitors.” Stiles winks at him. “So what’s really going on?”

They stare for a breath before Derek finally forms words. “I don’t...know how...to be…” He swallows, “Sexy.”

Stiles fights a smile, not hiding any amusement in his eyes. “We can, uh, work on that.” Stiles looks him up and down. “Okay, so you have plenty to work with. Just, uh, flex. Muscles. Flex ‘em.”

Derek brings his arms forward, flexing his arms with a raise of his brow.

Stiles rolls his eyes, “No. Like…” Stiles reaches out unable to explain with words. He pokes at each of Derek’s abs, his chest, and his shoulders. “Use these. Flex them.”

Derek tries, but he feels like he looks like he has gas or something.

“No.” Stiles groans bringing a hand to his chin.

Derek relaxes his flexed muscles, “I’m trying Stiles.”

Stiles nods and softly says, “I know.”

People start leaving the studio, calling an early lunch. Derek is thankful. There are only half the bodies in the room as there was before.

“Sexy.” Stiles says tapping his lips with a finger. “Sex is the operative word.” Stiles powers on, finally figuring out what he is trying to say. “Use sex as the motivation for your movements. Like what you do when you’re sexing someone.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to thrust at the camera, Stiles.”

Stiles rolls his eyes right back. “If all you have is thrusting in bed, then you have more problems than you think.” Stiles flushes and clears his throat.

Derek blushes.

Someone starts playing a song off to the side of the room, Derek looks over and it’s Erica who’s winking at him.

Stiles begins to sway with the music. “Okay, this can work. Listen to the music, Derek. Listen to the rise and fall of the melody, the rhythm, let your body play the instruments. Each muscle a different chord.

Derek thinks for a second before he instructs his body to try. He feels stiff, and he knows he looks worse. He gives Stiles a sad smile that he hopes says, ‘I’m really trying, but I suck.’

Stiles’ limbs are already playing the music, his body catching up.

If Derek wasn’t so worried about the music video he would let himself study Stiles, memorize his movement. Save it for when he’s alone.

Stiles fingers find their way to Derek’s shoulders, squeezing away the tension, urging him from one sway to the other. His hands work their way down over his chest, dragging fingernails, lighting Derek’s nerve endings.

Derek watches the dreamy, concentration in Stiles eyes, as he inches himself closer.

Stiles lets his fingers fall to Derek’s sides and Derek flinches at the contact, feeling going straight to his dick. Stiles’ hands pull back, and he blinks away his haze, “Sorry. Uhm, I was just trying to show you…” Stiles looks around. “Here.” Stiles pulls off his shirt in one quick motion. “Watch me.”

As if Derek could look anywhere else. His eyes jump from one mole to another on Stiles’ pale skin. Stiles’ skin looks soft, and warm, and Derek wants to reach out and touch.

Stiles isn’t quite as buff or defined as Derek, but he’s lean, and wide at the shoulders. His waist narrow with a trail of hair leading to his waist band, with diagonal creases leading out toward the side.

Erica turns up the music and Stiles closes his eyes as he begins dancing again. Stiles has an amused smile on his face, like he feels ridiculous, but Derek doesn’t care.

Stiles is making an idiot of himself because he is trying to help Derek.

Derek watches how Stiles’ stomach twitches, or bunches up in places, how his chest perks and falls, how forearms even strain. How every sting of muscle Stiles has stretches and releases to the rise and fall of the music.

Derek understands.

He also understands what Stiles meant by _sex._

Derek’s mouth is watering, his pants growing tighter, as he imagines Stiles stretched out on a bed. Being teased until the point of oblivion. Where his body is tense and searching for that release. Being driven to the edge over and over again. Looking as though he wants to explode with how tightly wound he is.

Derek has to keep himself from imagining himself _personally_ in that scenario.

The song ends and when Derek looks up, Stiles is staring at him with heated eyes before calling for someone to start the music for the video.

“Let’s see if any of that made sense.” Stiles says stepping back to watch Derek try again.

Derek does his best, he mouths the words, using this as a test run. He surprisingly doesn’t miss his cue. He keeps his eyes on Stiles as he begins, feeling his body relax more than it did the last time.

“Good. Good.” Stiles nods covering his mouth.

Derek throws his arm to the side, smiling with the chorus, feeling like less of an idiot with Stiles reassurance.

“There you go. Okay, but actually sing.” Stiles says, “Even if you sound bad, sing.”

“Why?” Derek asks pausing.

“Because you use muscles that way, dummy. You can see your throat, chest, and stomach constricting with your air. If you don’t sing then we have to show you how to fake sing too…” Stiles throws his hand forward, “Keep going!”

Derek does, he sings, he moves. He watches Stiles react with raised eyebrows, thick swallows, and licked lips.

“I think you’re ready.” Stiles smiles picking his shirt off the floor.

People start coming back in the studio about that time. Derek panics all over again.

“Relax. I’m going to be right there. I’ll dance with you.”

Derek nods, letting out a heavy breath.

“Watch me for cues, kay?” Stiles asks as he throws his shirt to the side of the room.

The director finds his chair. “We ready to go?”

Derek tips his head.

The director goes over the plan for the video, where the camera will be and when. To make sure he’s focussing on whatever is being recorded.

The camera starts behind his head when the music starts. Derek runs a hand over it, stretching out his shoulders as the camera comes around front. He takes one last look at his hands before singing. “ _I[ don’t wanna hear ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pkWF2WkWd7g)you’ve got a boyfriend. Sometimes you’re better off alone _.”

He continues singing, looking toward Stiles for encouragement who is grinning ear to ear. He can feel his limbs giving in, moving on their own. His stomach stretching with each inhale.

“ _And never did I think that I, Would be caught in the way you got me. Push another girl aside and just give in_ .” Derek pushes his arms out to the side finally connecting with the song. How could he _not_ with Stiles sole focus on him, moving to the sound of his own voice from across the room.

Erica strides over to dance with Stiles.

He sings and continues to glance over at them dancing together, grinding on each other. Derek feels intense jealousy well up inside of him. He flexes harder, moves more, jerky even, trying to steal Stiles’ attention away from Erica.

Stiles looks over winking as Derek sings, “ _But girls love girls and boys and love is not a choice_.”

That line was the whole point of the song. Love isn’t a choice.

Boyd’s sister had come out to her family a few months ago and some didn’t take it as well as others. Boyd was a mess through the whole thing and wrote her a song.

Derek sings louder, harder, wanting to give so many what they might need to hear. A song that lets them release their frustrations. It’s not just about the lyrics, it’s the way they are sung. It’s powerful, and calm. Simple, and loud.

Stiles locks eyes with Derek and dramatically runs his hand through his hair, telling Derek to play with his. Derek does and is rewarded with a very enthusiastic thumbs up from Stiles.

Derek lets his hand trail down his face to scratch at his stubble, looking up at Stiles from under his lashes.

Stiles blushes and accidentally elbows Erica behind him.

Derek grins before the camera goes around behind him. He reminds himself to focus on the position of the camera and arches his back, arms stretching above. He can feel the muscles bunch and release around his shoulder blades.

Stiles eyes are glued to the monitors and he visibly swallows, running a hand across his stomach.

As the camera comes back around Derek runs his fingers across his own stomach, letting them slide across the oil. They slide toward his belt before the camera moves back up to his face, he taps his foot to the beat, letting his hips stutter with the movement.

Stiles hasn’t looked at Erica for quite some time now, and Derek is eating up every second of Stiles’ attention.

Derek squeezes his eyes shut as he sings the chorus again. He knows Stiles’ eyes haven’t left him. He clasps his hands together in front of him at the end of extended arms. He readies himself for the bridge, locking eyes with the camera not looking at the object of his affections.

 _“I am just a villain vying for attention from a girl, a girl who can't decide and here's the reason why!_ ” He throws himself forward with the strength of the words. “ _Girls love girls and boys!_ ”

“Yeah!” Stiles calls from the side clapping.

The corner of Derek’s mouth turns up at the praise and he sings the chorus again as two dancers join him in their lingerie dancing against him. The girls kiss, and then run their mouths along his shoulder.

Sex sells, right?

The girls engage in a heated kiss, forgetting Derek, and he walks around them to end the song.

“ _But girls love girls and boys, and love is not a choice._ ” The camera pans out, and the director calls a cut.

Derek sags in relief, no longer needing to put on a show.

Stiles steps toward the monitor quickly to rewatch the footage. After it’s over Stiles whispers with the director. Derek doesn’t think it’s bad though, not based on the blush of Stiles cheeks. After a nod from the director Stiles raises two thumbs at Derek with a full tooth grin.

When the crew begins packing up and he is released from the center of attention, all he wants to do is grab Stiles and find an empty room. Stiles still hasn’t put his shirt back on, and Derek _wants._

Stiles looks like he wants that too, but then he gets a call and rushes out of the room trying to put his shirt back on. He mouths a ‘sorry’ at Derek as he pushes through the studio door already talking to whoever called him.

It’s for the best. Derek looks down at himself remembering the oil and asks where the shower is so he can try to clean up.

* * *

 

“You’re not saying anything.” Stiles says to the director after the recording ends. “You’re not going to make him do it again, are you?”

The director huffs through his nose. “He’s not even looking at the camera for most of it, Stiles.”

Stiles knows this is true, because he was the one Derek kept looking at. “I think it’s cute.”

The director rolls his eyes.

“Come on, the fans will love it. They will think he’s looking away in thought. They’ll obsess over who he might be thinking about. Plus, he already has a reputation for being shy… it would be weird if he suddenly got all serious and self confident.” Stiles purses his lips together. “Admit it, it’s not a _bad_ video, it’s just not what you had in mind.”

The direcor chews at the corner of his lips, scrubbing through the recording. “Fine.”

“Awesome!” Stiles turns to Derek who looks worried, so he gives him a mighty thumbs up to ease the creases in his face.

Derek relaxes but he looks _hungry._

Stiles is sure he looks the same way. It’s taking everything in him not to walk over, grab Derek’s hand and drag him to the prop closet. It’s been _far_ too long.

Stiles doesn’t get to think too long on what could happen in said closet because his phone vibrates from his pocket. When he pulls it out to see who it is he panics. He pulls his shirt on as fast as he can, answering through the fabric over his head. “Just a second.”

He heads for the door and apologizes to Derek over his shoulder. He was really looking forward to spending the day with him. Once outside, he puts the phone back to his ear. He doesn’t ask if she’s still there because he can hear her ordering a drink.

He lets out a breath. “Hi, mom.”

“Catch you at a bad time, sweet heart?” Talia asks with nothing but love in her voice.

“No, I was just finishing something up, I was excusing myself, didn’t want to be rude.” Stiles smiles as he hits the button in the elevator for the ground floor .

“Always the gentleman.” She coos. “How are things with Derek?”

Stiles blanches at Derek’s name.

She laughs. “Don’t get quiet on me now, Stiles.”

“I’m not - Peter tell you?” Stiles asks getting into his waiting town car telling them to take him back to the hotel.

“He told me the night they were signed.” She pauses, thanking a waitress for her drink. “He didn’t have to tell me though because Derek would have told me the next day. If he hadn’t I would have found out as soon as you all began the press tour. I can’t open a magazine or turn on the TV without seeing you two.”

“Oh.” Is all Stiles says.

“I’m surprised you didn’t tell me.” She says quietly.

Stiles instantly feels his skin heat. “I’m so sorry. It’s just been really hard, and I’m not really talking to anyone about it. You know, because he doesn’t remember, and I _do_ , and I just want to kiss him _all the time_ , and ask him how you and the kids are, ask if Tyler made the team...But I can’t. I’m just trying to find my footing. Because it’s _hard_.” He pauses to take a breath. “I should have told you. You’ve been so good to me all these years. Telling me how he’s doing, and that he was taking care of himself. I should have told you.” His voice falls at the end.

She hums through the phone. “I understand. It’s not like I had to wait to hear about it. If I had, then I might have been upset.” They sit in silence for a moment. “Peter told me what you did for them.”

“Hmm?” Stiles asks unable to move his lips.

“With the contract, and Kate.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you.” She says with a strong voice. “Thank you for always looking out for my son.”

Stiles lips tighten in a small smile. “Of course.”

She clicks her tongue quickly. “I never liked that girl. Even back when Derek brought her home back in high school. I never liked her.”

Stiles doesn’t want to think about Derek and Kate’s relationship. How long it was. How much history they have. That fact was the only thing that worried Stiles about Kate’s threat. “I don’t think anyone likes her.” Stiles says quietly chewing at one of his few remaining cuticles.

“Agreed.”

Stiles wishes he was at whatever restaurant she was at right now. Wishes he could sit beside her, listen to her laugh, watch her smile, count all the ways Derek resembled her.

Normally, when she called, she was in town asking if they could meet up. She must have already thought about this though. If they had lunch, there was a chance that they would end up in a tabloid, and the last thing they needed was for Derek to catch wind of their relationship.

Before the accident, they had actually never met. They met officially in the hospital when Derek was in surgery.

Stiles had cried, apologizing, begging for her forgiveness, begging for information - to know Derek was okay.

She had already known who he was though. She didn’t know that they were seeing each other behind Kate’s back, but she knew that Derek adored Stiles. Every time he had called home that year, he talked more and more about the lead singer of _Fallout_ and how great he was. Talia already knew her son had feelings for this singer.

She told him that Derek was okay, and that he could wait with her until he was out of surgery. Then demanded more information out of him.

Stiles told her _everything_.

Derek took a lot of time in recovery, unable to wake up for longer than a few seconds.

Stiles remained by Derek’s bed while he slept. He held his hand, cleaned his face, brushed his hair, _anything and everything_ to keep him busy until Derek woke up.

Stiles had already cancelled a show, but the label (Kate) insisted that he make it to the next one. He left only because Talia promised to call him the second Derek was awake.

By the time Stiles was able to make it back to the hospital after a long flight with two layovers, the doctors had already discovered the brain damage.

Talia met him in the hall to tell him. Told him that Derek didn’t even remember going on tour with them and Kate. She even went as far as to play his music and show him pictures asking if he knew who he was.

Stiles had foolishly thought that maybe if Derek saw him in person, maybe when the drugs wore off, that Derek would remember him.

He didn’t.

Stiles was at the hospital every moment he could, between flying all over the country for shows because his contract required him to be at everything that the label demanded. Kate was extra spiteful and didn’t allow wiggle room. She even added extra interviews.

After a few months, Derek’s family talked to Stiles about where things were going. They agreed it was best not to try and make Derek remember. So far it had only stressed Derek out.

Talia kept in touch because she knew how much Stiles loved Derek, and she wished they had had a chance at a future together.

She even let Stiles call her _mom_.

Stiles tunes back into the conversation when she asks, “So how is he doing?”

“He’s good. _Great_ , even! The band is picking up speed, he’s a fan favorite. He doesn’t seem bothered by the life, welcoming everything with open arms… he’s _good_.” Stiles smiles picking at a hole in his jeans.

“Good, I’m glad. I only see what they put in the media.” She clicks her tongue again, “Speaking of which, I saw your performance on that show, with the fire! I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, mom.” He smiles. Stiles doesn’t remember why _exactly_ he started calling her that. Sometimes he thinks it was a coping mechanism. That by claiming her as something so important, he was keeping part of Derek in his life. But then he knew that the bond they had forged was _genuine_. Talia truly looked at him like a son.

“How are you doing?” She asks with a voice like warm molasses.

Stiles shrugs. “I’m good. Band’s good. Same ‘ol, same ‘ol.”

“No, Stiles. How are _you_ doing?”

Her sighs, knowing better than to lie, but knowing that she wouldn’t judge him. “Not great.”

She hums prompting him to explain.

Stiles runs a hand through his hair. “I know we talked a lot about how if Derek and I got another shot, I wouldn’t waste it, and now that I do... “ He groans. “I still love him. You _know_ I do. But every time I… I feel like i’m taking advantage of him. I don’t know how to talk to him. You know without letting something slip. I also can’t find it in myself to tell him about - _you know_ . He’s so happy, and we all talked about how it would only make things worse for him if he knew. And then when I think about just starting fresh I can’t ignore the fact that eventually he would have to know, and then I’m a _liar_ . _We’re all liars._ Everyone he cares about. I just… I can’t hurt him. He’s been through enough.” He stops, taking a deep breath.

“And that’s why I love you, Stiles.”

“Hm?”

“You’re always looking out for what’s best for him.” She pauses. “But you _are_ going to have to tell him.”

Stiles bites his lip. “I know.” He throws his head against the headrest. “I was thinking I would wait until after the tour. So you know, if he - so - he won’t have to spend every day with me. It won’t be awkward. I want him to enjoy this. Tour, I mean.”

“That’s almost a year from now, Stiles.”

“I know. But I’ll keep my hands to myself, and then when I tell him, he won’t think I had been taking advantage of him. I don’t know… it makes sense in my head.” He rubs at his forehead. “What if he can never love me again? Not like before.”

Stiles can almost feel Talia petting his hair as she says, “Honey, he _still_ loves you. Even if he doesn’t understand it yet.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything.

“Just be yourself. He loves you. A mother knows her children.”

“Okay.” Stiles gets ready to head into his hotel.

“I’m going to go ahead and let you go for now. I need to call Derek and let him know I’m in town, try to meet him for dinner tonight.” She pauses. “You going to be okay?”

“Yea. Yes.” He clears his throat. “I’ll be fine. At least he’s back now. Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course. Talk to you soon.”

“Talk to you soon.” Stiles smiles as he hangs up and enters the building. There’s still some weight on his shoulders but for the first time since Derek showed up, he feels like everything isn’t as hopeless as it seemed.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Stiles runs away and hides out at Danny's. Danny was there for Stiles through his depression after the accident. They were more than friends. Stiles tries to use Danny for comfort.**
> 
> I'm a terrible person. I'm so sorry. 
> 
> Again, we have [QuiteContrary](http://mmquitecontrary.tumblr.com/) to thank for this chapter! She is amazing. Please send her cuddles as she is sick today :( Get well, sweetie!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Luh ya cuties!


	6. FLASHBACK: Fly me to the moon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 2010 and Stiles and Derek take things to the next level.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Flashback chapter with a whole lotta fluff, and a couple lemons. 
> 
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.
> 
> ENJOY!

**December 25, 2010**

Derek is visiting his family for the holidays while the band is on break from tour. The rest of his family has gone off to bed so he finds himself sitting in his old room and trying to boot up his old desktop computer. He can practically smell the dust singe as the electricity surges through the machine. Once the old machine, unbelievably, roars to life, he opens a browser and searches _Fallout Shelter Stiles_.

He misses the kid and it’s killing him that Stiles is only a few miles away visiting his family in both of their home town because they both grew up in Beacon Hills.

Derek texts Stiles again.

**Derek: Remind me again why we can’t hang out?**

It takes a few minutes but he soon gets a reply.

**Stiles: Because the media knows where I grew up and we can’t risk Kate seeing a picture of us hanging out. On tour is one thing, but at home is a whole new can of worms.**

Derek groans rubbing his face, listening to the soft scratch of his beard against his hand. He knows Stiles is right. He knows it would be risky for them to meet up because a camera could catch them out and about, riding in a car toward one of their houses, or even kissing in some dark corner. All of which were bad news.

_Very bad news._

Even if Kate were a non issue, Stiles still had a few lines in his contract restricting relationships. Stiles isn’t supposed to have any, _specifically_ guys.

Most artists have this clause, but when the relationship is hetero with an up and coming starlet they let it slide. When it’s homo they enforce the clause, be it as _gently_ as they might. They say it is for the artist’s reputation, to keep the girls screaming, to keep them dreaming, but both Derek and Stiles know it’s more homophobic than anything. The mass of society prefer to only speculate on orientation, not have it said straight out.

Stiles has promised Derek that as soon as their contract renews he _will_ make sure that clause is taken out of the new document, and he will come out so that they can be together. Even if their relationship is fairly new, and they haven’t done much more than kiss, they believe it to be something _more._

Stiles is also going to try and have their management switched from Kate as well, so that they can be together without her hovering over their shoulders exacting her revenge, which they are almost positive they will have to endure.

They hope that Kate will take it well, it’s not like she is devoted to Derek in any way. She spends all of her time without him, and only calls on him when she has an event to go to where she needs a date. Sometimes she will spend the night in a hotel room with him just to say she did and keep Derek _amicable_. Only to ensure that he accept her invitation to her next big meeting or photo op.

Derek wishes she would stop _pretending_ . He will keep going to events with her, but he’d rather stay at the hotel with Stiles every night than pretend that he and Kate share _anything_.

Derek scrolls through the first few results of his search but goes back and clicks the first one stating a sighting in Beacon Hills.

Stiles is standing next to a powder blue Jeep. Derek recognizes it immediately. He remembers seeing it in the parking lot of the high school when they were younger, only now he understands why Stiles has refused to give it up.

The Jeep was one of the few things his mother left when she passed. When Stiles was signed, the first thing he did was fix her up. Even if he couldn’t take her on tour, he still wanted her healthy. Derek remembers one phone call Stiles made to his dad a month ago asking if he had taken her out on the town that week. She, the Jeep, was a free spirit and couldn’t live out her days in a dusty garage. _They had an agreement._

Derek looks at the rest of the photo, specifically Stiles’ face, which is crestfallen. Derek looks at the time stamp and imagines that Stiles is reading his text, which would confirm that Stiles wants to be with him too.

Derek can see the local bar in the background of the photo and imagines getting in his car and rushing over there for an _accidental_ meeting. Stiles is probably long gone from there by now, though.

He clicks through a few more photos. Stiles with fans; smiling, hugging, kissing foreheads, striking poses. There is a series of photos where Stiles has apparently engaged in a game of tag at a local park.

Stiles and the kids are laughing, and running all over the place. Hiding behind trees, tackling each other, and falling to the grass with hands on their chest. Stiles looks like one of the kids enjoying his winter break.

The caption on the set of photos read: _Fallout’s Stiles, spends Christmas Day chasing local kids around a park in a very enthusiastic game of tag back in his hometown of Beacon Hills._

The article goes on to talk about how his hometown has grown accustomed to their rockstar and generally treats him well. They give him space, and don’t stalk his home. They explain how Stiles spends time at the park every time he’s home. He likes playing with the kids because they don’t quite understand why he’s a big deal so it’s safe for him there.

Derek smiles and sends Stiles a text.

**Derek: You’ve had a busy day haven’t you?**

**Stiles: What?**

**Stiles: What makes you say that?**

**Stiles: are you cyber stalking me? :o**

Derek rolls his eyes, a small blush rising.

**Derek: how else am I to see you?**

There’s a small space of time that passes before Derek gets a reply.

Stiles sends him a picture.

Derek can see the pillows behind Stiles head, his bare shoulders, the mole just under his chin, and a teasing smirk that meets his eyes.

Derek studies the picture longer than he would like to admit. He wants to drive over to the sheriff's house, damn the consequences, but he can’t.

**Stiles: your turn big guy.**

Derek blushes, he’s not one for selfies. He hasn’t been one for a lot of things but Stiles makes him want to _try_. He tries to take a picture but when he looks, half of his face is out of the frame. He tries another three times and cannot get his whole head in the shot.

Finally, he gives up with a huff and goes to his bathroom to just take a picture in the mirror so that he can make sure his whole body is in the frame.

On impulse he tugs off his tank top because this is for _Stiles_.

In the frame you can see Derek, his bare chest, and the low ride of his pajama pants. Derek considers taking another where he’s smiling, or not looking at the phone in his hand, but he decides against it and just sends it as is. He prays to all that is holy, that Stiles doesn’t make fun of him.

There’s a long wait before he gets a reply.

**Stiles: Well, there goes my segue into what you were wearing. Not that I’m complaining.**

Derek blinks down at the screen, was he reading this right?

**Derek: Feel free to answer the question for me then?**

**Stiles: Just my boxers. ;)**

Derek sighs in relief that he was right, but tenses when he realizes what being right meant. He has never sexted anyone in his life. How far does it go? How far is too far? How descriptive should you be? How teasing? How? How? How? Howwww?

Derek is still panicking when he realizes Stiles is waiting for a response. Derek types out a few texts, and deletes them all because they are far too forward and he is too new at this. Finally, he settles on one.

**Derek: You in bed for the night?**

He smacks his face in shame. So not sexy. So not what he wants to say. So bad.

Bad.

Pathetically bad.

**Stiles: Yes sir ;)**

This time Derek does say what he wants, the wink bringing it out of him.

**Derek: Wish I was there.**

**Stiles: me too.**

**Derek: I’ve gotten used to sleeping in your bunk, or in your hotel room.**

**Stiles: I know. I feel the same way, like Idk how to sleep alone anymore.**

**Derek: I could still come over, you know?**

**Stiles: Derek. You’re making me feel bad.**

Derek frowns, that’s the last thing he wants. He just really wants to be with Stiles, however that might be.

**Derek: Please don’t feel bad.**

**Derek: I only want to make you feel good.**

Derek’s heart rate picks up a bit at that, he really, _really,_ wants to make Stiles feel good. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.

**Stiles: i have a few ideas for that. ;)**

**Derek: Just let me come over. I’ll make you feel good. I promise.**

Derek would do anything. As little as just laying in bed with him, holding him tight, or _more._ He would do _so_ much _more_.

**Stiles: You don’t need to. You already are. :)**

**Derek: Well I’m glad you feel good. But I’m miserable. All I want to do is kiss you.**

Derek takes a deep breath, trying to ground himself. If he lets his tether loose for even a _second_ he will be downstairs and out the front door before he could think better of it.

**Stiles: Me too, babe. I want to get my mouth all over you.**

**Stiles: I want to mark you from your neck to your thighs. So everyone knows you’re mine.**

Derek grips himself through his pajama pants. He didn’t realize how much he wanted that too. They have been extremely careful not to leave evidence of their late nights together. They haven’t done much. They just make out and cuddle.

They both want so much more.

**Derek: I don’t bruise too easy.**

**Stiles: Then I won’t go easy on you. Even better.**

**Derek: Stiles.**

**Stiles: Derek?**

**Derek: You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?**

**Stiles: It can’t be worse than what you do to me.**

**Stiles: Trust me.**

Derek does. He trusts Stiles more than anyone. He doesn’t know when it happened or why, but his relationship with Stiles feels like it went from 0 to 60 in about 10 seconds flat.

Derek can’t come up with anything to say back. The only experience he has, is with Stiles, which isn’t very much.

**Stiles: I’ve thought about being between your thighs. Your thighs between mine… all of it. Because seriously your thighs are better than KFC. Js.**

Derek laughs at that, his body relaxing into the pillows under neath him. Derek ignores the comparison of his thighs to fried chicken, but he re-reads the first part of the text. He imagines how great it would feel to have Stiles’ legs secured around his waist. How warm they would feel. How that would put Stiles heat right at his center.

**Derek: Sometimes I question why I like you.**

**Stiles: No you don’t.**

**Derek: I don’t.**

**Stiles: So I’ve been looking at your picture. Like a lot. Haven’t stopped. Damn. Like seriously. I want to lick your entire torso.**

**Derek: Please, be my guest.**

**Stiles: Derek, you can’t say things like that.**

**Derek: Why not?**

**Stiles: Because I have no willpower when it comes to you. None. Zilch. Nada.**

**Derek: That’s okay. I don’t want you to hold back.**

**Stiles: Fuck Derek. I am so fucking hard right now.**

Derek’s stomach flips. He’s felt Stiles through his pants a few times, but they never did anything about it. Keeping things simple. Happy to just cover each other in kisses.

Derek palms himself, realizing he’s probably just as hard. His eyes roll into the back of his head as he squeezes.

**Derek: Me too. Shit.**

**Stiles: Derek, I’m trying to let you lead here, but I am losing my resolve over here.**

Derek thinks about that for a second. He appreciates that Stiles is trying to let Derek expand and move at his own pace, but he’s too scared to do it himself.

**Derek: I’m nervous. I don’t want to sound like an idiot.**

**Stiles: you won’t sound like an idiot.**

**Stiles: It’s okay though. I’ll help you.**

**Derek: okay.**

**Stiles: where are your hands right now?**

**Derek: on my phone..**

**Stiles: You should one hand it like me.**

**Derek: What do I do with the other one?**

**Stiles: ;)**

**Derek: oh.**

**Derek: Okay.**

He doesn’t get another text for a minute or so, and his eyes roll into the back of his head as he imagines Stiles stroking himself across town, just like he is.

**Stiles: How do you feel?**

**Derek: Fucking amazing.**

**Stiles: Me too, babe.**

**Stiles: are you thinking about me?**

**Derek: yes.**

**Stiles: what about me?**

Derek strokes faster, imagining Stiles spread on top of him. His mouth working its way down his neck, licking his abs like he promised, grinding down on him.

**Stiles: my mouth, maybe? ;)**

Derek groans into his fisted phone.

**Derek: Yes. That specifically.**

**Stiles: You just say the word, big guy. My mouth is open and ready for the taking. ;)**

**Derek: What’s the word? The word. I’ll say it. As soon as I know what it is.**

**Stiles: You want me to nip and suck your skin all the way down to your waistline?**

**Derek: God, yes.**

**Stiles: Then slide your underwear off with my teeth?**

**Derek: You can do that?**

**Stiles: Then tease you by sucking hickeys into those gorgeous thighs of yours?**

**Stiles: Make you beg.**

**Derek: I’m begging.**

Derek can see it. Can feel it. Wants it more than anything.

**Stiles: Then hover just above your cock. Looking at you for permission.**

**Derek: You have it. Please, Stiles. Please tell me you’re touching yourself still. What are you doing?**

**Stiles: I’m imagining all the ways I could have you spread out before me, how you trust me to bring you pleasure. To watch you fall apart just so I can put you back together. I haven’t stopped touching myself since you sent me that picture.**

**Derek: Fuck.**

**Stiles: btw, don’t think I didn’t notice that you weren’t wearing your glasses you told me about.**

Derek grabs his glasses off the end table and tries to take another picture. He knows parts of his face must be missing but he sends it anyway, unable to take his hand off his swollen cock.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before his phone rings. He answers almost sure of who it is.

“Derek?” Stiles breathes. “Did you just take that?”

Derek nods. Only Stiles can’t see him. “Yea.” It comes out like a croak, his throat dry.

“I didn’t even know you could turn that pink. Your glasses are adorable by the way. I swear though, I almost came when I got that. Were you… when you took that?” Stiles groans.

Derek looks at the picture again, not remembering most of the details. He’s flushed, all the way down his chest. His lips are swollen from him biting at them, trying to keep his moans to himself. His eyes are blown wide in arousal, and his eyelids are low. He can see why Stiles got excited and called him. He answers Stiles’ question with a simple “Yes.”

“Fuck, Derek. I wish you were here. So bad.” Stiles breathes heavy, Derek can hear a faint slap in the background.

“Are you still…?” Derek asks.

Stiles’ breath hitches, “Fuck, yes. I keep thinking about… Derek, I want you so fucking bad.”

“I’m yours.” Derek says more firm than anything he’s said yet.

“Oh my god.”

Derek can hear Stiles biting back his moans, maybe his dad is home. “Come for me, Stiles. I’ll come with you, i’m so close.”

“Yea?” Stiles huffs.

“Yes.” Derek confirms, speeding up his own motions. “I wish I was with you so I could slide between your legs and make you feel good. I want to bracket you in and protect you from the world. The only thing being the space between us. I want to take care of you.”

Derek listens to Stiles breathing speed up, the slaps become more frequent, Stiles’ whimper when Derek tells him he wants to take care of him.

“I want you to know that I am yours. That there isn’t anyone else who makes me as happy as you do.” As Derek says the words he knows they are true. He hadn’t thought about it much, but he knows that what he has with Stiles isn’t some fling, it’s real, and it has potential, and Derek want’s to explore it.

“Derek, Derek..” Stiles huffs, “I’m so fucking close.”

Derek hums through the line in encouragement. “If I were there I would hold you down, watch you closely as you finally let go. Study you when you come. Commit it to memory. Nothing else could be as beautiful.” Derek groans, his release finally hitting.

Stiles cries out at that moment.

They lay still, trying to even out their breathing for awhile. Seconds, maybe minutes pass, Derek isn’t sure.

“Who knew you had such a dirty streak?” Stiles laughs.

Derek would blush if his body wasn’t still cherry red.

“We need to do this more often.” Stiles sighs. “Preferably in person.”

“We will.” Derek reassures. He looks at the clock and it’s almost midnight.

“Well, we should get some sleep, I hate to _come_ and go… but…” Stiles laughs weakly at his pun.

“Funny.” Derek rolls his eyes. “I need to clean up anyway. Text me tomorrow?”

“You got it, babe.” Stiles smiles. “Good night, Derek.”

“Good night.” Derek smiles back.

* * *

 

**December 26, 2010**

Derek spends most of the next day with his mom so he can help her clean up the house after the rest of the family has left. It’s comforting unlike when he was younger. When he was younger he would rather be doing _anything_ than help his mom clean the house. Now, it only brought him closer to her and he was beginning to feel the tug of being so far away from her all the time.

“You seem happier.” She says in passing while clearing the kitchen table.

Derek blinks, he knows he’s happy, but he hadn’t thought about how much happier he had gotten in comparison to before..

“Your resting bitch face, as Laura so eloquently puts it, isn’t the same.” She clarifies.

He clears his throat scrubbing a heavy pan. “I’m just enjoying the tour. Stiles, _Fallout,_ is really cool, and I spend a lot of time with them.”

She smiles dropping another dish by the sink, “You’ve told me a lot about them. They seem like good people.”

“I have?” Derek pops his head up.

“You have. Specifically, Stiles. He grew up here, did he not?” She raises an eyebrow sorting the remaining dishes to be washed.

Derek returns to scrubbing the pan in his hand. “Yea. How did you know?”

“After hearing you talk about him so much, I took it upon myself to learn a little about him.” She brushes a strand of long black hair over her shoulder. “Do you two know each other from high school?”

“No.” He shakes his head, reminding himself how much he hates himself for that. Maybe then he would never have been with Kate in the first place. “We ran in different circles. He was more art based.”

“And you were the jock.” His mom smirks.

“Hey!” He elbows her. “I was also scholarly. I never failed anything, and made pretty good grades, including my advanced classes.”

She dabs a blob of bubbles on his nose. “I know.”

He rubs the soap off dramatically.

“So why aren’t you two hanging out? You’re both home.” She goes to clean out the fridge of leftovers she knows she won’t eat.

Derek collects his thoughts before answering. “I’m spending time with you. He’s spending time with his dad.” He swallows unable to say the real reason. “I’ll see him tomorrow when we fly back to the hotel.”

“If you say so.” She clicks her tongue. “I’m glad you found such a great friend. He sounds like a really nice boy.”

“He is.” Derek locks his eyes on another dish, hoping his mom doesn’t see the blush run itself up his neck. Stiles was a very nice boy, but he also had a naughty streak. Derek hasn’t really stopped thinking about his conversation with him last night.

“How’s Kate?” His mom suddenly asks. “You haven’t said anything about her since you got home.” The gleam in her eye tells Derek that she definitely has suspicions, and they probably aren’t far off from the truth.

“Busy.” He grunts. “I hardly see her. I guess that’s why I didn’t say anything about her, we don’t really see each other often, I spend all my time with the band.”

She nods like she understands.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He points at her. “I’m just having fun.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are.”

Sometimes he hates his mom.

* * *

 

Stiles wakes up reaching across the bed searching for warm flesh. He comes up empty handed.

Derek is at his childhood home at least, and not with Kate like all the other times Stiles has woken up alone.

He knows that what he and Derek are doing is about as healthy as drinking gallons of coffee in place of sleep and rest. About as risky as caging a wild lion with a white picket fence. They both know how unhealthy and risky this is, but they can’t bring themselves to do anything different.

Stiles crawls out of bed to shower his worry away.

Once dressed, he grabs his guitar to load into the Jeep, and heads for his old high school. He goes in through the band hall when he knows class is in session so he can avoid the mass of students. He finds his favorite teacher. Mr. Gib, the man who taught him piano.

“Gib! It’s your favorite rockstar!” Stiles smiles from ear to ear holding his arms out for a hug.

Mr. Gib smiles in return dropping the papers he was holding to come around the desk and hug him. “Stiles, it’s so good to see you. How are you? How’s Lydia?”

Stiles pats his back a few times before pulling back and answering. “She’s good, we’re good. She couldn’t make it home this break, she’s visiting family further north. I hope it’s okay I stopped by.”

“Of course! You’re always welcome, even if you are risking your own safety coming to a _high school._ ” Mr. Gib pointedly shuts the music room’s door.

Stiles rolls his eyes, dropping down onto his old chair. “I’ll be fine. You’ll protect me. Glare all the kids into submission and all that _jazz_.” Stiles gives his best go at jazz hands for emphasis.

Mr. Gib doesn’t give that a response, but he does pull up a chair to talk to Stiles and catch up until his next class.

When the bell rings, Mr. Gib instructs him to move into the auditorium if he wants to stay. He needs to do a few things with the class before they see him, if he did in fact want to spend time with the students.

Stiles does as he’s told. He stands center stage and closes his eyes feeling the familiar heat on his face, the sound of the hollow stage below him, the clean hollow sound of silence around him. It’s so much different now than it was only a few years ago on this stage. Sure, larger venues still have the hollow stage, the warm lights, and specifically designed acoustics. But nothing quite matches your first stage.

Stiles sat down at the edge of the stage swinging his legs, looking around, the red rows of chairs making him feel more at home than he has felt in awhile. He humors the idea of coming home and putting on a private concert right here in this auditorium, but he knows that would not be a good idea. This theater was not made for the intensity of their performance. And if they aren’t able to play at the right sound level their sound falls flat.

It’s still nice to think about though; Going back to where it all started.

He pulls his guitar around in his lap, running his fingers along the strings, hearing the small buzz they give off from the caress. He strums a few times to make sure it’s tuned.

He strums a chord, letting the words find him. He thinks about Derek. How complicated everything is. How they can’t be together because they are sneaking around. Stiles still can’t have Derek to himself.

“[I’ll keep my jealousy close](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dkxl1Iws6j4) _, cause it’s all mine. And if you say this makes you happy then I’m not the only one lying.”_ Stiles pulls out the notebook he keeps in his pocket and writes the short lines down.

He picks up where he left off with the chords and sings it again, playing with the notes. He sings it a few times until he comes up with another line.

“ _Keep quiet. Nothing comes as easy as you.”_ Stiles thinks about how well they mesh, their bond that grew easy and fast. Just friends at first, but then too much to ignore. _“Can I lay in your bed all day?”_

He stops to write but more words pour out on paper as he hums along. _I’ll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake. The hand behind this pen relives a failure every day._

Stiles lets himself think about the truth behind his words. He stares at the ink on the page, ashamed.

He never saw himself as a cheater, as the other _woman_. Even if Kate was vindictive, and clearly wasn’t invested in Derek, it didn’t change what they were doing. They were impulsive. Selfish.

There wasn’t even a guarantee that they would last past the tour. Essentially, they were throwing both of their lives up in the air and hoping the pieces at least landed face up.

He sang the few lines again, voicing his worry through the notes, the urgency with the the pace of the song.

 _“Drink down that Gin and Kerosene.”_ Stiles felt the burning in his chest, his gut. One part desire, the other impending doom.

“ _Come spit on bridges with me, just to keep us warm.”_ That’s what they were doing. They were spitting on all the bridges they had, ready to burn them as long as it kept them together and happy. As long as they were warm.

He thinks about Kate and how Derek still has to leave him to be with her when the timing suits her busy schedule. “ _Light a match to leave me be.”_

When Derek’s gone, Stiles is cold, empty, lonely. He needs Derek to give him one last, final, parting kiss when he leaves. Something strong enough to keep Stiles warm until he comes back. “ _Light a match and leave me be.”_

He plays the lines over and over, wishing Scott and Lydia were with him so they could actually work on the composition of the song, but he’d settle with this for now. He ignores the tightening grip in his chest as the words become more real.

When Mr. Gib leads the students into the theater Stiles accepts the distraction with vigor.

* * *

Later that night Stiles watches some crime show with his dad. They spend the night watching one after another trying to figure out ‘who did it’ faster than the other. His dad almost always wins, but Stiles is determined to change that.

As a new episode is starting up, he receives a text from Derek.

**Derek: You didn’t tell me you were going to the school. I could’ve gone too.**

Stiles rolls his eyes, he wants to see Derek just as bad but they have to be careful.

**Stiles: No, then our cover would be blown.**

**Derek: I know.**

**Derek: I just want to see you.**

Stiles feels his skin warm.

**Stiles: You will. Tomorrow. At the hotel after I meet with Chris.**

**Derek: Text me when you get there so I can come to your room?**

**Stiles: Of course. :)**

The next morning Stiles does a local interview as a favor to Lydia’s mom, so he isn’t able to fly back with Derek, but he calls ahead to the hotel to ask them to give Derek a kay card to his room. He makes sure to clarify that they only give it to him if he’s alone. He couldn’t risk Kate finding out. Not many ways to talk your way out of that one.

* * *

 

**December 27, 2010**

“Mr. Stilinski’s key card as well, Mr. Hale.” The concierge informs Derek as he hands over a second card.

Derek stares at the card in his hand. “I’m sorry?”

“Mr. Stilinski called ahead to make sure you got it.” The man nods. “Is there anything else you need before you head up for your stay?”

Derek shakes his head pocketing both cards. “Thank you.”

They offer to carry his bags up for him, but he respectfully declines, able to carry the few bags himself.

He drops them off in his room, so that if Kate came by at any point she would think he was staying in there. Then he heads to Stiles’ room.

He passes the time showering and watching television. Waiting for the text that tells him Stiles is on his way.

It’s close to 9pm when he finally gets it.

**Stiles: On my way now. See you soon.**

Derek doesn’t tell Stiles he’s in his room and momentarily worries that he wasn’t supposed to be there, maybe Stiles just wanted him to have access later. Stiles probably wanted to clean up before they hung out.

Before he can gather his few belongings Stiles pushes through the door and comes face to face with him in the entry way.

Stiles barely untangles his arms from his bags before he rushes forward grabbing Derek’s face in a rough kiss.

Derek drops his wallet and key card on the floor somewhere behind Stiles in favor of wrapping Stiles in his arms. Finally.

The kiss turns filthy in little to no time, both of them groping at each other trying to confirm that they were really in the same room again. Three days having been too long. Stiles starts walking Derek backwards toward the small sofa. When Derek’s knees hit the edge, he falls to a sitting position, and Stiles quickly climbs in his lap straddling him.

Derek can feel how hard Stiles is as he rubs against his own matching heat.

They breathe heavy against each other’s face, hotly over necks, pulling at collars to find more skin.

Derek grabs Stiles ass cementing himself to Stiles. Bodies touching from shoulder to thigh.

Stiles lets out a hungry groan at the movement, and allows himself the rut more enthusiastically against Derek.

They don’t say anything, both too busy latching onto any surface of skin they can find.

Derek runs his hands up Stiles’ back feeling the lean muscle coil and release with each curve of their hips. When Derek’s hands slide back down, he slides them under Stiles’ shirt and back up again.

Stiles hips stutter as he fights an internal battle between grinding down and pushing pack into Derek’s touch. Derek gives him both by thrusting up and pulling in against his back. Stiles bites Derek’s lip in a silent cry of bliss.

Derek revels in the smooth plains of Stiles skin, running his hands up, down, and around, pulling at Stiles’ waist band to bring him closer.

Derek thought he would have a harder time participating, since everything was so new to him, but turns out it’s really not all that different. It came easy to him. To _them_.

“Derek, fuck.” Stiles moaned against his lips, sounding the way he did on the phone the other night.

“It’s okay. Go for it.” Derek reassures, speeding up his movements, drawing the release out of Stiles.

Derek watches the corner of Stiles mouth come up in a smirk, his eyes squeezed shut, a low blush on his cheeks. Derek regrets having not watched Stiles up until this point. Too lost in his own ecstasy to think about it.

“Stiles.” Derek huffs with a thrust. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

Stiles smiles and presses his forehead firmly to Derek’s, meeting Derek’s eyes as his body spasms and he finally releases.

With Stiles warm, amber eyes watching him, Derek follows swiftly after, holding Stiles tight to him, never wanting to let go.

Stiles eyes fall heavy and he captures Derek’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss. They kiss leisurely for awhile, while both of their heart rates settle and breathing slows. Stiles hangs heavily around Derek’s shoulders now, face pressed in the pit of Derek’s shoulder and neck.

Derek speaks up, finally able to see straight. “That was a pleasant surprise.”

Stiles smiles against his neck, humming, before he lifts his head to show Derek the lazy smirk he’s sporting. “I’m like the mailman, except instead of mail, it’s hot sex I deliver.” He winks at Derek, his smug grin only growing larger.

Derek barely shakes his head. Some of the things that come out of Stiles mouth should be illegal, but Derek wouldn’t trade it for anything else. “I missed you.” He says softly.

Stiles smirk turns into a downturned smile, like he’s trying to school his features into a passable expression. “Right back at you, babe.” Stiles lays his head back on Derek’s shoulder and scratches at the back of Derek’s neck, humming contentedly.

After about ten minutes of cuddling Stiles speaks into Derek’s neck. “We really need to clean up. I can’t remember the last time I jizzed in my pants, but I don’t recall it being much fun after it dried.” Stiles doesn’t make any move to get up.

“I can confirm that it definitely isn’t.” Derek strokes Stiles back.

“I don’t want to move. You might need to carry me.” He whines about as much like a small child as possible.

Derek pats his back, and places a small kiss to his neck. “Come on, let’s go.”

Stiles groans but he pulls himself to his feet. “You go first, I need to take a real shower and wash the recycled air plane air out of my skin.” He adjusts his pants where it’s starting to stick.

Derek washes himself quickly, throwing his underwear in the garbage deciding not to worry about them. Derek tells Stiles that he’s going to run up to his room and grab clean clothes while he showers.

Derek changes quickly as he notes that Kate has definitely not been to the room. He thinks about texting her to ask if she’s going to be in the hotel tonight, but decides against it because he doesn’t want to risk her stopping by thinking he wants to see her.

He _definitely_ doesn’t.

The shower is still running when Derek unlocks the door to Stiles’ room. Derek turns on the television at a low volume, and turns down the bed. He pours two screwdrivers for him and Stiles to wind down before bed.

They don’t drink as much as they did a few months ago now that they are _happy._ It’s the only way Derek can think to put it. He knows they have added stress that a new relationship shouldn’t have; Kate, fame, and a miserable sleep schedule. Yet, Derek can’t imagine things any other way.

As Derek settles into bed he hears Stiles humming to himself in the shower. Derek recognizes the tune but cannot place it. He closes his eyes letting the warm, crisp, sound of Stiles voice flood his senses.

 _“[Fly me to the moon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oCW9Hey6IVY).” _ Stiles sings dramatically. “ _Let me play among the stars. Let me see what spring is like on a-”_ Stiles taps the linoleum wall, “ _Jupiter and Mars.”_

Sinatra, Derek realizes, and feels a warm smile spread across his face as he continues listening.

“ _In other words? Hold my hand. In other words? Baby, kiss me.”_

Derek hears Stiles’ toes squeak against the tub as though he turned quickly.

“ _Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more. You are all I long for, all I worship, and adore.”_ Stiles taps rapidly against the wall again. “ _In other words? Please be trueeeee!”_ Stiles holds the note while clicking a bottle open. “ _In other words? I hmmm hmmm.”_

Derek curls his lips down fighting a smile. The words should have been ‘I Love You.’ Derek has learned many things about Stiles since he met him half a year ago, more maybe? One thing he knows for certain, is that while in song, Stiles cannot lie. The most he can do is change he to she to suit the label’s demands.

Stiles hums the horns in the song, and taps on the wall for the drums before repeating the verse again.

Derek lets himself believe that Stiles is singing the song about him. He’s not hurt that Stiles couldn’t say that he loved him, because Derek doesn’t think he could either. The relationship was rocky at best, and simply too new and unexplored to know _that_ for certain.

“ _In other words? Please be truuuuue! I’n other words? I Like”_ Stiles taps on the wall three times then ends with a clipped- _“You!”_

Derek wishes the song was longer, that he could listen to Stiles sing another classic. His voice was rich, and smooth on any other day, but without the added base and rowdy rock instrumentals, Stiles voice was like molasses.

The water cut off a few minutes later and Stiles came through the door with only a towel around his waist. He paused in the doorway when he saw Derek stretched out on the bed.

Derek popped his mouth open, embarrassment flooding him. “Was I not supposed...did you want to be alone for-”

“No!” Stiles shouts, one hand holding the towel at his waist, the other palm out to Derek. “I just didn’t know you were back already.”

Derek settles back into the mattress. “You took at least twenty minutes to shower, I only needed five to change.”

Stiles nods, pursing his lips and darting his eyes around, before rubbing the back of his neck and looking up through his lashes. “So… you heard all that then?”

Derek gives him a single nod.

“Awesome.” Stiles settles, only he sounds as though it was the farthest thing from awesome.

Derek watches the blush work its way up Stiles’ chest, and the humiliated look take over Stiles’ features. Derek hops off the mattress to walk around to Stiles. “Look at me.”

Stiles does.

“I know _The Stiles Stilinski_ isn’t embarrassed by his singing. You always sound beautiful. You could sing Twinkle Twinkle and still sound perfect.” Derek searches Stiles’ eyes.

Stiles gives him a nod accepting what he said, gives Derek a peck, then finds a pair of underwear.

Derek makes a point not to look at Stiles when the towel drops because they haven’t made it there yet. Derek settles back into the mattress and takes a sip of his screwdriver. “Why Sinatra?” Derek asks.

Stiles hums a thought while climbing under the covers and grabbing his own drink. “My mom… she used to spend the weekends doing crafts, or cooking, or cleaning - I swear she just had to keep her hands busy or she thought she would go crazy - anyway, she would play old cassettes of Sinatra all day, and I associate his music with my mom’s smile. She had a great smile. My dad says I got mine from her.” Stiles looks down at his drink, a soft smile on his face.

“You have a great smile.” Derek says.

Stiles smiles wider as he looks over at Derek. “I guess Sinatra just makes me feel closer to her, ya know? Like that was her happy place, so I naturally go there too when I’m happy.”

“You’re happy?” Derek asks looking for the truth in Stiles’ eyes.

Stiles looks between Derek’s eyes for a moment before answering. “Very.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I have to thank [QuiteContrary](http://mmquitecontrary.tumblr.com/), my boo, for sticking with me through this and listening as I pout, spit, whine, and moan over how writing is SO HARD! She is nothing but encouraging, and might I say flattering. Man oh man, it's not every day someone tells you that you got them hot and bothered. Whoo! I can check that off my bucket list. haha. I'd say go make friends with her because she's the best, but i'm not going to because she is MINE! I'll still share, but let the records show that she was MINE first. Kay? Kay. :)
> 
> As always, You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	7. The fear of falling apart.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles runs up the stairwell as fast as he can, hoping that if he runs fast enough his heart will be too distracted to burst out of his chest and lie dead on the floor like the miserable organ it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Present time again! Derek just filmed Girls/Girls/Boys, and Stiles rushed out to talk to Talia. :')
> 
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

The studio where Derek shot the music video for _Girls/Girls/Boys_ , apparently, doesn’t keep soap in stock. So, Derek grabs his clothes, forces his sticky skin into them, and catches a ride back to the hotel with Erica and Boyd.

“Have you guys banged yet?” Erica asks abruptly from the front of the car.

Derek raises his eyebrows, his mouth falling open a second at the the comment, then he schools his expression into his favorite scowl.

“Jackson and I made a bet, and I need to know.” Erica clarifies, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

Boyd grumbles a warning, “Erica.”

“What?! They both radiate so much sexual tension, it’s bound to happen, I just need to know when!” She looks back at Derek, eyebrows raised. “So?”

“It’s none of your business.” Derek levels a glare at her, but he knows she won’t give in that easy and they have at least ten more minutes before they make it to the hotel. “We haven’t.” He finally concedes.

She purses her lips, “Soon though.”

It’s not a question.

Derek doesn’t know if he is more excited or scared at the prospect. Stiles has clearly been with guys before, where Derek has not. It’s been awhile since he was intimidated by sex, but he _definitely_ is.

“I swear the two of you today were like softcore porn. You two were dripping with lust. It was mouthwatering to watch. Boyd, we should come up with more videos like that, maybe one day they will lose control and just take each other right there in the middle of the room - I swear it could happen, did you see them? Because I couldn’t keep my eyes off of them. Derek, seriously, like whoa.” Erica rambles on and on and Derek keeps his eyes pointed out the window like she isn’t there. He knows what they looked like. He was there, remember?

Once in the hotel, Erica gives up on trying to get either a rise or more information out of Derek and goes to her own room with Boyd.

Derek makes his way to an elevator. He punches his floor and looks up to find Kate stepping into the elevator with a predatory gleam in her eyes.

Kate shoves Derek against the side of the small space and smashes her lips against his, once she makes contact she grips his face, and shoves her tongue in, moaning filthy sounds into his mouth.

Derek is taken off guard. His limbs aren’t reacting to the confusing assault. Finally, he gets his hands on her shoulders to push her away when he hears a soft sound, almost like a whimper, but tinged with a low volume shreak. Derek opens his eyes to see Stiles frozen in the opening of the silver doors.

Stiles mouth snaps closed, and his face goes slack, like he’s trying not to show emotion. His eyes darting between Derek and Kate.

Kate pulls back, letting her hands fall to Derek’s chest, then turns to see Stiles. “Going down?” She asks Stiles.

Derek briefly wonders why she said down, he’s not even sure if there is a down. He forgets his train of thought when he sees the look in Stiles’ eyes, of barely contained hatred, serving as a punch to Derek’s stomach.

Stiles just had a major fight with Kate.

Derek tries to imagine how it must have felt to walk in on the guy you make out with on occasion, kissing your nemesis.

Derek’s frozen, he can’t move, can’t speak. Afraid he might say or do something wrong to cement the fact that Stiles may never kiss him again.

“I’ll catch the next one.” Is all Stiles says, stepping out of the elevator and around the corner.

The shiny doors slide shut after Derek hears the door to the stairwell slam open down the hall.

“What are you doing?” Derek shoves Kate away from him, wiping his mouth clean.

She slides closer, more timid this time. “Oh, Derek. I miss you. I miss us.” She reaches for his face again.

He grabs her hand and holds it away from him. “That doesn’t give you the right to assault me in an elevator.” His lips thin into a line, as he recalls all the times he allowed Kate to have her way with him, because he thought he loved her and she loved him back. Because he just wanted to make her happy.

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.” She lets her hand hang from his grip, not pulling away. “It’s been so long, Der. Don’t you miss me?”

Derek’s eyebrows furrow. “No. I’m sorry, but no.” He apologizes because he doesn’t like hurting people, even if they weren’t good together, he didn’t want to hurt her purposefully. He was just finally doing what he wanted, or was trying to at least. He wanted to be happy, and happy was not anything near what he would be if he were to get back with Kate.

“Excuse me?” She finally pulls her hand away, his words still stinging even with the added _sorry_.

Derek turns toward the door to watch the numbers count up to his floor. “You can’t be too surprised. We were never good together. We aren’t good for each other.”

“We can work on things, we can make it work.” She says closer to his shoulder than she was a few seconds ago.

“No. We can’t. I won’t.” Derek huffs, steeling his reserve. “You made it pretty clear how badly you wanted to make things _work_ after the accident when you just _left_ me.”

“Derek…” She searches for a way to convince him otherwise.

“Save it, Kate. I’ve made my decision. We will never get back together. I’m sorry.” Derek had to protect himself. Keep the positive people in his life, and the negative out. She was definitely negative.

The door chimes and slides open. Derek doesn’t wait for another response and walks straight to his room, securing the door as quickly as he can so she can’t slip in behind him.

He walks across the room to the glass sliding door to the balcony, steps out, and lights a cigarette.

He just wants to be done with that part of his life.

* * *

 

Stiles runs up the stairwell as fast as he can, hoping that if he runs fast enough his heart will be too distracted to burst out of his chest and lie dead on the floor like the miserable organ it is.

Stiles doesn’t pay attention to the floor numbers as he passes them, only focussed on keeping his momentum. He makes it to the top where he finds a door to the roof. By some miracle it isn’t locked. He pushes through it, half heartedly still running.

He’s at the edge of the roof looking out on the busy city. He slides his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one quickly to fill his lungs. He lets the smoke billow out over the city and closes his eyes. Instead of calm, he finds the image of Derek kissing Kate. He was holding her. He hadn’t pushed her away.

Kate could win this.

He opens his eyes to rid himself of the gut wrenching image. The tips of his fingers run along the cement block lining the rooftop, bringing back memories of a very important night in his life.

It was in the year after the accident. Stiles had been having a particularly hard night, week, month, _life!_ He had stood drunk on the edge of some hotel in Boston. He was at a point where he was sure nothing, not even death, could hurt more than how he felt after losing something so precious to him.

Danny had found him.

Stiles clenches his eyes tight, not sure if he is only remembering the pain, or if an entirely new period of pain was only beginning.

Sure, Derek has been back for over three months, but Stiles has been in denial, unbelieving, unsettled, on what it all could mean for them. Now, he had spoken to Talia and he finally thought he had his footing, only that would never happen and he was a fool for believing the ground would stop spinning.

“It’s going to be okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.” Stiles starts chanting, a familiar thing when a panic attack starts to hit. “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

A hand comes to his shoulder but he can’t acknowledge it, it could be anyone but he can only keep his eyes closed and keep chanting over the new voice in his ear.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.” He feels himself hiccup through the chant. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

He’s pulled into someone’s chest and his words become muffled in their chest. Eventually, he can hear the other voice above his own mumbled sounds.

“Stiles, it’s okay. I got you.” Isaac soothes as he squeezes Stiles tight around the shoulders.

Stiles brings his arms up to secure around Isaac’s middle, feeling his attack slowly fade.

They stay like that for a few minutes, Isaac repeating that everything will be okay, that he has him, over and over until Stiles’ breathing returns to normal.

“Thank you.” Stiles mumbles, not ready to let go. “I’m so fucking pathetic, right?”

“No, of course not. There’s nothing pathetic about a broken heart.”

Stiles chokes on a laugh.

“Now?” Isaac asks, “We must dance!”

Stiles shakes his head. “Oh no no no no!” He tries to push away, prying Isaacs long arms away from his body, feeling a smile spread.

Isaac raises a brow, lazy smirk in place, his blue eyes shining in the setting sun.

“No!” Stiles laughs, fighting a futile fight as Isaac finds Stiles’ hand.

“[Stay with me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUam2NeGZ_0) _.”_ Isaac begins singing in his higher timbre voice, “ _Won’t you stay with me, cause you’re all I need_ .” Isaac starts a sway with Stiles. “ _I know this isn’t love it’s clear to see_.”

Stiles lets himself enjoy the song, and movement. Isaac successfully distracting him. Stiles joins in. “ _Why am I so emotional? No it’s not a good look gain some self control._ ”

They sing, and laugh, and dance until they have sung the same lines over enough to grow tired of them.

“Now, dip me.” Isaac winks.

Stiles does and they end up falling with Isaac’s dead weight onto the gravel.  

After they calm down and move to a more comfortable position Stiles lights another cigarette, his other long forgotten on the street below, and asks Isaac what he had been doing on the roof.

“Just catching some air. Tour starts tomorrow, it’s the calm before the storm, I like to get a good look at life? I- you know what I mean.” Isaac stands to look over the edge of the building, settling his long arms into his pockets, his scarf lazily blowing in the wind. It reminds Stiles of a cape.

“What do you say we ditch this Popsicle stand and save the city of Gotham?” Stiles props both fists on each hip to stare out at the city. “Gotham needs a hero.” He imitates the classic superhero to the best of his ability.

“And I suppose you’d like me to be your Robin.” Isaac quirks a brow.

Stiles winks, “But of course!”

Isaac shakes his head. “Of course.”

They talk for awhile about how cool it would be to live out the dream of a vigilante. Pointedly, _not_ talking about the elephant on the roof.

When the sun has set they head back inside and go their separate ways. Stiles decides to spend some time with his best friend.

Scott and Stiles always have a key to each other’s rooms so Stiles lets himself in without knocking. “You up for a night of beer and an ass kicking?” Stiles asks, dropping his wallet and key card on the entry table.

“Dude, that was one time!” Scott comes around the corner, “It’s never going to happen again!”

“My memory begs to differ.” Stiles laughs, pulling Scott into a tight hug.

Scott pulls back, “Then I will just have to refresh your memory, _again._ ” Scott walks over to the large television and boots up the Xbox while Stiles grabs a case of beer from the fridge.

“I want in on this action!” Allison calls walking over from the bathroom. “I’m going to kick _both_ of your asses.” She settles on the floor next to Stiles taking a beer and tapping its neck to the one Stiles already has in his hand.

Stiles had no idea she was visiting, “Hey, Ally. I didn’t know you were here, I can go, let you guys spend some time together.”

“Oh, stop.” She waves the beer at him as Scott walks over to join them on the floor. “Scott and I will get plenty of time together, and I miss your face. You’re staying.”

Stiles fights a smile when he is faced with the loving stare of two of the most important people in his life.

“If for nothing else, stay so I can unleash the beast, and prove _once again_ that I will always destroy you two in this game.” She winks at Scott.

Scott blushes, “You can destroy me any time.” The familiar dopey smile spreads across Scott’s face.

Stiles brows furrow, his mouth twisting. “That’s a little weird, but to each their own.”

Allison nudges him, “Leave him alone.”

They giggle until the game starts and they all set up for the first round of bloodshed.

* * *

 

“HOW?! HOW?! _HOWWWW_?!” Stiles cries after Allison has kicked their asses for the sixth time.

Scott runs his fingers through her hair. “Good job, babe.”

She smiles proudly back at him.

“You two disgust me. Seriously.” Stiles points, before opening another beer from the third six pack they pulled out. “And you are not human!” He points to Allison, then Scott, “How can you look at her like that? She’s slaughtering us!”

“She’s perfect.” Scott blinks from where his head is laying on her shoulder.

Allison puts down the controller to grab another beer for herself. “Come on Stiles, it’s not like we didn’t sit and watch you do the same thing with Derek.”

Stiles gapes at her. “We weren’t that bad.”

Scott laughs, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I hate both of you.” Stiles turns back to the _Game Over_ screen.

He thinks back on when he and Derek spent every night together. How any time they had the chance they hung all over each other. He can see how it would be sickeningly sweet to an outsider, but what they had was precious and they had to take advantage of every second they had. It’s one of the few things Stiles is thankful for, that he and Derek spent every second they could together when they _could_.

Stiles swallows thickly. “I saw them kissing.”

“Who?” Allison asks, concern written in all the creases of her face.

Scott guesses. “Derek and Kate.”

Stiles nods, keeping his eyes on the screen.

They wait for him to elaborate.

“Before I came up here.” Stiles picks at the label on his beer. “In the elevator.”

He has tried to convince himself that it was nothing, that it wasn’t what it looked like, but Kate had threatened to get Derek back. Her words still ringing in his ears ‘ _That’s the beautiful thing about it. Derek doesn’t remember you. He only remembers me.’_

“I’m sure it wasn’t what it looked like.” Allison whispers.

Stiles wants to believe her.

“Allison can always tell him about her _many_ visitors over the last few years. Tell him she has a monthly screening.” Scott levels him with a look, that tells him that he will fight for him, and if blood shed happens? So be it.

Allison clicks her tongue, “Even if that’s true, I wouldn’t do that.” Allison, always the moral one. “Stiles, you two are meant for each other. It’ll work out.”

Stiles tries to give her a smile that reflects that he believes her, the look in her eye tells him he doesn’t succeed.

“Look at me and Scott.”

Scott looks up at her with hooded eyes, and a dreamy grin on his face.

She continues. “Everyone said we would never work because of Kate, because of the whole _no dating the acts_ thing, and now look at us? Sure, we can’t go public until we renew your contract, but Kate can’t touch us as long as the media doesn’t catch on. You and Derek will do the same.”

Stiles nods at his fingers. If Derek had never been in the accident, maybe, but he was and things aren’t the same.

“Things are different, sure. But you should enjoy the time you get with him this year, maybe it will spark something for him - don’t think we don’t know about you two already making out in corners.” Allison grins, pulling Stiles into her side.

Stiles snuggles in, “I’m afraid I’m just taking advantage, like I know how to get him going, and I want him so badly I feel like I am reading more into it than I should, like I want him to want me back so badly that I am making his interest bigger than it really is.”

“Nah, he wants you too.” Scott reassures.

Allison rubs Stiles’ head, “I’ll let you know if you take advantage.”

“How?” Stiles asks. “You’re not always around. Trust me, I know. Scott constantly reminds us.” Stiles pokes Scott across her lap, only to have him bat it away.

“I’ll be there.” She sighs as they all slip further into the floor, the late hour finally catching up with them.

Stiles furrows his brows, then finds a stack of luggage across the room that are definitely not Scotts. “Are you coming with us?”

“Yep.” She pops. “Tour starts tomorrow, and I _am_ _Were!’s_ manager, so _this time_ I get to stick with you guys the whole time. Sure, I’ll have to work, but I will be traveling with you guys.”

Stiles finds comfort in that. Allison has first hand knowledge when it comes to Kate and her relationship with Derek. Allison is definitely a good ally to have. Also, that meant that Scott got to be with her more, and Stiles couldn’t be happier for him.

Stiles’ eyelids grow heavy and he allows himself to fall asleep praying that all goes well this year.

* * *

 

“What if things go bad again? You remember how bad he got.” Scott whispers.

They must think Stiles is still sleeping.

“It’s a possibility, yes, but we have to let whatever happens, happen.” Allison whispers back.

Scott sighs. “I just want him to be happy.”

“I know honey. We all do, but his best chance is with Derek, and now he has a chance to get it back. If nothing else, at least he can get closure.”

Stiles can’t help but agree with her. _If nothing else, he can get closure._

The topic changes to plans for the tour, and how excited Scott is to have her with him for it, before Stiles hears them kiss.

Stiles knows that it will escalate and if it doesn’t it will only be because he’s right there, so he makes a show of waking up. He mumbles about how the floor is stupid, and he wants a bed one last time before they spend the next year on the bus.

They seem to accept this and help him out of the room so he can return to his. Stiles stumbles down the hall to his own room and passes out as soon as he hits his mattress.

* * *

 

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty! Up and at em. Time to go. Put some clothes on. Let’s go!”

Stiles groans as his blanket is ripped away from him.

“I won’t say it again. Let’s go!”

Two large hands wrap around both of Stiles ankles and half his body is flung off the bed. “Okay! God! Shut up!” Stiles yells turning his body around to throw his hands in the air in surrender. “Good morning to you too, Bobby! Glad to see your time off hasn’t changed your sunny disposition!” He hunches over himself, leveling Finstock with an irritated stare.

Bobby gives Stiles a full tooth smile. “Can’t teach an old dog new tricks, right?” Finstock grabs a few bags and throws them in the hall to be gathered and loaded onto the buss downstairs. “Ten minutes. Ten minutes and your ass better be on that bus.”

“Yea, okay. I know.” Stiles rubs the sleep from his eyes, a hand over his shoulder waving Bobby away. “Now, go away!”

Stiles hears the door shut and drops his hands to his knees with a loud clap. “Jesus.”

This isn’t anything new. Finstock has been with them since their first tour, he’s their official road manager. He makes sure they get from point A to point B with as little delay as possible. He makes sure all the road crew buses and trailers arrive on time to set up the stage with enough time for sound check every night. He’s a master at this job. He will tell you about how he learned all the tricks when he managed an _ACDC_ tour, because those boys liked to party, etc, blah. But Stiles is pretty sure everyone does what he says as fast as possible so he will shut the fuck up!

Finstock is a loud, obnoxious, asshole, but Stiles loves him.

Finstock has successfully carted them through five tours and they have only ever missed one show, the one the night of the accident.

When Bobby found out about the accident, he was the one who called Stiles and told him. Told Stiles not to worry about the show, he would make sure everything was taken care of. Bobby offered to make arrangements to cancel the next three shows. He told Stiles not to worry about the label, that he would deal with them. Stiles let him try, but some things even the Bobby Finstock cannot make happen.

Stiles brushed his teeth quickly and threw on a new shirt and pants before tossing his last suitcase into the hallway. He scans the room one last time for any forgotten belongings then heads down for the bus, with his personal bag thrown over his shoulder, and his last suitcase dragging behind him.

He doesn’t even have to look around to know who’s yelling outside.

“Oh, how I miss the days when you were this easy. Look at them, already loaded onto the bus. Carried their own bags and everything. But noooo! I have to drag your asses out of bed every damn morning!” Finstock shouts in Stiles’ direction. “Asses on the bus!”

Stiles smiles knowing he must be the last to make it down. He makes his way to Finstock’s side, making a show of the suitcase behind him that he _dragged all by himself_ , then loads it under the bus. He turns around to give Finstock a smug grin before planting a kiss on his cheek and hopping up the stairs into the bus.

“I’m getting too old for this shit.” Bobby groans behind him.

Stiles can’t help but smile.

“Did you just _kiss_ him?!” Jackson chokes pointing out the window where Finstock is still in view.

Stiles nods, throwing the bag over his shoulder into his bunk.

Jackson’s eyes are dead when he questions. “How? Why? I have never disliked someone as much as I dislike him, and I only met him this morning.”

Scott answers, making his way from the back of the bus. “Get used to him, man. He’s our road manager. Closest thing any of us will have to a parent all year.”

Isaac props his feet on a box of Mountain Dew on the floor. “He’s not so bad. You’ll learn to appreciate him.”

“Doubt it.” Jackson grumbles looking down at his phone.

“Careful,” Lydia warns from her bunk. “You don’t want Bobby to _forget_ one of your bags somewhere.”

“Oh my god, that was _one time!_ ” Stiles pokes her through her curtain. “Will you ever let it go?”

“Nope!” She pops.

Derek’s head comes out of the bunk below Stiles’. “Wait, what?”

“Where did you even come from?” Stiles jumps. “There are too many people on this bus.”

They all agreed that because _Were_ ! was new, that they should stick close to _Fallout_ for the first leg of the tour, get an idea of what it’s like, and have the support they might need to stretch through the growing pains. After the first leg they would discuss getting a second bus.

“Finstock will _lose our bags?”_ Derek asks incredulously below Stiles.

Stiles pinches his nose, “No, just mine.”

Lydia _humphs_ behind him and he turns to mouth, _‘Leave it alone_.’ at her. Then looks back to Derek before hopping into his own bunk above him. “He’s like my dad, always trying to teach me lessons.” Stiles hopes Derek will let it drop at that.

It was during the year after the accident and Stiles had been _using_ . Bobby found a number of illicit substances in one of his bags, confronted a very _gone_ Stiles and after an hour of yelling at a giggly asshole, he left and Stiles never saw the bag again. Stiles hadn’t taken it too well, that was his stuff, Bobby had no right to throw it away.

That was before an 8 hour drive where Bobby trapped Stiles in the front of the bus and made Stiles _talk._ That was when Stiles realized he had a problem. That was when Stiles realized that he would never trade his road manager for anyone else in the world.

Any time Stiles felt himself crave on tour, Bobby was his first call. Bobby was Stiles rehab.

Stiles plugs in his headphones and tries to sleep for as long as possible, knowing that it was going to be a very long day.

* * *

 

Stiles wakes up with four hours left of the drive. He opens his window in his bunk to get some fresh air as they fly down the freeway. He opens his curtain slightly so that he can look across at Lydia to see what she’s doing.

Lydia has her phone at her chest and she’s typing a mile a minute with a large smile on her face.

Stiles opens his phone and goes to Twitter, Lydia’s favorite social media platform. His entire feed is filled with her posting about the Shelter games, giving away tickets, responding to fans, candids of both _Fallout_ and _Were_! sleeping haphazardly on the bus.

Stiles finds one of himself drooling on his pillow and huffs loud enough to grab her attention.

She raises a delicate eyebrow in question.

Stiles holds up his phone showing the picture only to get a smile bright enough to blind the weak. Stiles pulls his phone back and decides to respond to fans as well. It was one of the perks of what he does, getting to connect with strangers all over the world who find solace in your work.

Stiles quickly loses track of time with the fresh air in his face, rumble of the road beneath him, and the never ending stream of excitement pouring from his phone.

* * *

 

By the time they get to the venue and drag themselves off the bus, all stretching and popping joints, the crew has already set up the stage. They file in through the back to get ready for sound check.

 _Fallout_ doesn’t have to think about what they are doing, it’s as simple as taking a shower to them.

Tour is simple. Travel, sound check, clean up, meet and greet, eat, hair and makeup, perform, load up onto the bus, or into a car if you are lucky enough to get a hotel for the night, maybe hop on a plane if the trek is too far, repeat. All. Year. Long. There are occasional anomalies to the routine if they have an interview or something, but that’s just how things go.

 _Fallout_ goes first. This isn’t because they need to set an example for _Were!_ , this is just common practice. That way once _Were!’s_ stage is set up, they can leave it up for the show, then during intermission _Fallout_ will set up again. This way they both don’t have to set up twice. Sound check is mostly for the sound and light crew to mark their boards.

Scott pounds away at the drums after positioning them for optimum drumming, Lydia plays a few chords on her keyboard, double checking the wiring, and that her other instruments are set up and ready to go as well. Isaac plays a few chords from a few songs on each guitar making sure they are all tuned and ready to go before propping them on their stands to be changed out. Stiles grabs a mic and sings random lyrics, not really focused on anything, just waiting for the sound guys to yell down that they are good to go so that he can go find a shower.

Erica is running around with her phone snapping pictures of everything she finds interesting. Boyd is lounging in one of the front seats of the arena. Jackson is up in the lighting booth watching as the guys light one light after another. Derek is standing off to the side of the stage, hands in his pockets, eyes wide, and a thin line on his lips.

Stiles knows Derek is nervous, he just needs to relax. Stiles holds out an arm toward Derek who’s not looking his way. “[Oh, why you look so sad?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SuWAGT9ZkYE) _Tears are in your eyes.”_

Derek looks up at Stiles then dips his head when he sees that Stiles is serenading him.

“ _Come on come to me now.”_ Stiles makes a show of pulling a rope, hauling Derek closer and after a few attempts he follows. “ _Don’t be ashamed to cry! Let me see you through, cuz I’ve seen the dark side too._ ” Stiles mimes the song dramatically as he sings.

Derek shakes his head rubbing at the bridge of his nose, a blush rising to his ears.

“ _When the night falls on you, and you don’t know what to do, nothing you confess-”_ Stiles reaches out to caress Derek’s face, only to earn a heavy eye roll. “ _Could make me love you less!”_ Stiles runs his arm around Derek’s waist, bringing them hip to hip, and begins swaying them from side to side. “ _I’ll stand by you. I’ll staaand by you. Won’t let nobody hurt you. I’ll stand by you.”_

Derek hides his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with laughter as the rest of his band joins in from around the arena singing at the top of their lungs.

Stiles keeps his eye on Derek the whole time. The way his two front teeth poke out from under his top lip with his unrestrained smile, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, how his shoulder slope down as they relax. It’s only another chorus before Derek is singing with Stiles into the mic. At first it takes Stiles off guard, having never sang with Derek. Derek doesn’t seem to notice the hiccup as he sings in earnest.

After they finish Stiles hugs Derek, pecking a small kiss to his cheek, and palming his hot ear.

Derek gives him a tight squeeze only pulling back when the stage manager informs them that _Fallout_ is done, and for _Were_! to set up for their check.

Their time is a lot messier, the nerves getting the best of all of them.

Stiles stands to the side with his band and they all reminisce about their first few sound checks, how chaotic they had been.

Allison comes up behind them and pokes Scott in the ribs. “Go help them!”

Scott smiles back at her, gives her a quick peck on the cheek, and runs forward to ask Boyd if he’d like some help setting up his drums.

They all join their counterparts, and the rest of the sound check runs smoothly.

* * *

 

The eight of them are lined up to enter the Meet and Greet room and Stiles bounces on his toes trying to rev himself up for the fans. Stiles looks over to see Derek tensing again with nerves. Stiles bounds down the line to Derek sporting his best smile. “Nervous?”

Derek shakes his head quickly, then his eyes fall and he nods.

Stiles pats his shoulder, “That’s okay, don’t worry about it. Even I still get nervous.”

“Liar.” Derek digs his hands deeper into his jacket pockets.

Stiles gapes at him, “Seriously! It’s scary coming up against a hundred balls of energy. Trust me, they are more nervous than you. Just smile and try to make them comfortable, they really appreciate that.”

“Yea?” Derek asks, his eyes bright under his lashes.

“Yea.” Stiles’ eyes dart down to Derek’s mouth in habit. His default to kiss Derek’s nerves away.

Derek mimics the flick of Stiles’ eyes.

Stiles glances around to find only their bands in the narrow hall, and a few security members. He tugs the zipper of Derek’s jacket, inviting him in for a kiss, if Derek is interested.

The corner of Derek’s lips quirk and his eyes squint silently asking if Stiles is suggesting what he thinks he is.

Stiles winks at him and tilts his head slightly.

Derek closes the space between them, sucking Stiles’ bottom lip into his mouth.

Stiles mentally high fives himself for not moaning into Derek’s mouth. Every kiss is a gift. Christmas morning. Even if it’s nothing serious, not in this _life,_ it means the world to Stiles. Stiles holds Derek tight by his jacket, deepening the kiss, savoring every second he is allowed.

Derek wraps an arm around Stiles’ back holding him close, dragging the kiss out another minute before pulling back and resting his forehead on Stiles’.

“Better?” Stiles asks, breathless.

“Mhmm.” Derek answers, eyes closed, a soft sigh sliding out of him.

Security tells them they are ready, and Stiles pulls Derek by the jacket still clutched between his fingers to the front of the line. Their friends whistle and catcall as Stiles joggs them forward.

Derek shoves Jackson in passing, shaking his head as he fights the blush rising to his ears.

Once the door is open Stiles leads them in at a quick pace, waving to the fans lined around the room. There’s a set of narrow tables set up with name cards for them to sit at. One table for _Fallout_ , the other for _Were_! Stiles picks up Derek’s name card and raises an eyebrow at Scott.

Scott looks down to where his name card sits, then back at Stiles foux frown. Scott rolls his eyes, collects his name, and trots over to place it where Derek’s was only seconds ago.

Stiles kisses his best friend on the cheek, wet, and sloppy.

Scott wipes it away dramatically, then smacks Stiles’ ass to send him away with Derek, who is standing back all too aware of the fans with their video cameras plastered to their fingers.

The rest of the band shuffles around, following Stiles’ and Scott’s lead, and Stiles pulls Derek’s chair out ceremoniously as they all sit down. Seconds later, security begins letting one fan through at a time to meet the bands.

* * *

 

Derek has to keep reminding himself to breathe. He’s signed at least thirty-seven photos of himself; some professional shots of the band, and some Derek has no idea how they got.

The new faces have nothing but nice things to say to him, and Derek sees what Stiles meant about them being more nervous than he is. Derek does his best to smile comfortingly at each person who meets his eyes, every time he does the fan relaxes, sharing a soft smile back with him before asking for an autograph or photo, or both.

Derek expected to be ignored, that all the fans were there for _Fallout_ , but whether it was to be nice or they actually had interest, every fan smiled at him and engaged with him.

Derek tries not to watch Stiles too much, wanting to give the fans their deserved attention, but Stiles is captivating.

Stiles’ whole body is buzzing with energy, a wide open mouthed smile splitting his face in two, fingers scratching his chin, behind his neck, his ear. Fingers running through his hair, gesturing wildly between him and each fan as they compliment him to which he compliments them ten times harder.

Stiles leans across the table for photos, making wild faces, smiling brightly, kissing cheeks. The first time Derek sees this he leans over and asks Stiles if that’s okay - to kiss the fans.

“Sure! After awhile you learn how to read them, you can pick out the few who don’t like contact, but i’ve found that most of them like it.” Stiles winks at the girl who just walked up in front of him, she nods vehemently, blushing a bright pink. Stiles stands up and kisses her on the cheek then signs the CD she placed before him. “I’m sure she’d love a kiss from you too.” Stiles winks handing the CD back to her.

Derek fights his own blush, meeting the girls eyes, who only grows darker. He raises an eyebrow asking permission and she nods. Derek leans forward, taking her hand and kissing her other cheek.

“Oh my god.” She squeals, shaking with uncontained excitement.

Stiles laughs heartily while he signs another fans art, and takes another picture.

The line continues moving, and Derek feels himself relax more and more. It must show because the fans engage with him more. They tell him how handsome he is, how beautiful his voice is, how they are excited to see the show that night, but one comment stands out above the rest.

“Your song, _Girls/Girls/Boys_? It’s how I came out to my parents. It wasn’t anything big, or drastic, but I played the song and they listened. They said it was a good song, different, that they liked it. I told them I related to it, and I wasn’t sure if they understood or not, but then a week later I had tickets to see you guys.” A tear threatened her eye. “I never thought they’d accept me, but they do.”

Derek stood up quick and wrapped her in a hug over the table. “That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you!” Derek pulled out his phone, “Mind if I get a picture with you?”

She blinked at him.

“I want to remember the first time I felt like my music mattered.” He smiles.

A bashful smile spreads across her face and she leans in with her own phone in hand for them to take a picture at the same time. “Thank you.” She giggles leaning back.

“You should tell Boyd what you told me.” Derek says pointing down the table. “He wrote the song.”

She nods already being pushed along by the line.

Derek lets his eyes follow her for a second, wanting to remember every second of this encounter.

He still doubted if this was what he wanted to do with his life. Still trying to fight his _follow_ instinct. To do what was expected of him, and make others happy. He was finally trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. He was afraid that music wasn’t right, that he was just doing it for his friends and actually falling back into old habits, but now?

He felt he could make a difference.

He turns his head to find Stiles grinning at him, his nose flaring quickly, before they both turn back to the fans in front of them.

This continues for another hour, only a handful of fans left. Derek can’t believe how Stiles energy hasn’t faltered once, but then he realizes he feels the same way, this is the most rewarding thing he thinks he has ever experienced in his life.

The last fan is ushered to the table and Stiles begins his interaction. The security guard must grow impatient when Derek becomes open and sort of nudges the boy forward.

The boy quickly drops the CD he was reaching to take back from Stiles, to pull his sleeve back down that had been rucked up with the guard’s nudge.

Derek and Stiles see the pale lines before he can cover them up. His face breaks down and Stiles rushes around the table quickly, grabbing the boy’s wrist, shielding it from prying eyes. The boy looks up at Stiles, looking around to see if anyone was watching.

Stiles pulls the boy’s hand between their chests to wrap him in a hug with his other arm. The boy clings to him as Stiles whispers in his ear.

Derek can see the boy saying something back, and Stiles nods.

They pull apart and Stiles drags a wristband from his own wrist to plant around the boy’s. “There. All better.” Stiles smiles patting it.

The boy laughs, “Perfect.”

Stiles’ eyes remain on the boy as he makes his way down the line. Everyone treats him like they didn’t see anything odd happen, and comment on his new _Were_! wristband that hasn’t even hit shelves yet.

Derek watches Stiles scratch at his own wrists, Derek momentarily panics, wondering if Stiles once hurt himself, but there aren’t any marks.

Stiles must feel Derek’s eyes on him, because he plasters a bright smile on his face and flips to Derek. “See? Wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.”

“It was worse.” Derek deadpans, earning a chuckle from Stiles as they stand to head to their dressing rooms.

* * *

 

They open the show with _Mrs. Jackson_ because of the response it has had since _Fallout_ announced who would be opening for their tour.

They have performed it a number of times already because _Fallout_ is notorious for spur of the moment shows. At each small show they would drag _Were!_ out and have them do the song to gain momentum. It was easy to perform now, it was a safe song to start their first _actual_ concert with.

They’re halfway through their thirty minutes and Derek knows he should be more relaxed, but his nerves are strung tighter than a corset. When he thinks he’s making a fool of himself, because he really isn’t prepared for this, having never dreamt of fame for himself, he looks backstage to see Stiles smiling back at him.

Stiles stays to the side the entire time, his limbs loose, arms crossed, lazy smile on his face. Just enjoying the show.

The next song begins and Derek squares his shoulders needing to say a few things publicly.

The heartbeat thuds loudly through the arena, and Derek taps his chest with his palm to the steady pattern. He closes his eyes, grounding himself with the beat of his heart.

This is one of the few songs Derek tried to be involved in as much as possible during the writing process, because Boyd had pointed out how much Derek hadn’t dealt with since the accident.

“[This is gospel for the fallen ones](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yohUt0SaRg4) _, locked away in permanent slumber. Assembling their philosophies from pieces of broken memories.”_ After the accident he was constantly asked what he wanted, what he was going to do, where he wanted to go. He quickly realized that he had no idea what he wanted. He’d always gone along with what everyone else wanted, he was a people pleaser, he never wanted to be the reason for someone’s unhappiness. Now he had the chance to figure out what he wanted.

“ _Ohhhoho.”_ Derek closes his eyes as Jackson and Erica sing. _‘This is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart.’_

Since Derek woke up in the hospital, and he felt the panic settling into his bones, he focused on the sound of his pulse in his ears.

He could have died in the accident, but he didn’t.

He was alive.

“ _Their gnashing teeth and criminal tongues conspire against the odds.”_ He thinks of Kate, how she came into his hospital room, not concerned for his _well being_ , only wanting to berate him for something he had done. Something he couldn’t _remember_ doing. Something he could never _see_ himself doing.

He squeezes his eyes shut thinking of all the hateful things she had ever said to him.

“ _But they haven’t seen the best of us yet.”_ He smiles a wicked grin, looking out at the audience under his lashes, holding the microphone still.

Since he had let Kate go, his life had only improved. He had found friends that made him happy, a career that he had never allowed himself to dream, and the ability to figure out what he _wants_.

 _“If you love me let me go!”_ Derek stretches his neck, letting the sound pour from his mouth, amplifying as he repeats the line.

This wasn’t only about Kate. This was all of the people who came to him after his accident and tried to remind him of his lost years. The people who told him he wasn’t the same person anymore. He felt like the same person, but apparently he had gone through _something significant_ in those last two years because according to everyone, he had been better, lighter, happier.

Derek wasn’t sure he believed it. How could he have been so happy, but ended up almost dying and in a hospital bed for months?

“ _‘Cause these words are knives and often leave scars! The fear of falling apart.”_ It killed him when people told him he wasn’t the same. He couldn’t help it, whatever had happened to him those two years that changed him in their eyes were gone, he had to start over. Each fleeting comment ripped his heart out and reminded him of just how much he might have lost. _“And truth be told, I never was yours!”_ It was _his_ life, that he had to figure it out for himself.

When he met his new friends they asked about his past. It was different with them than with his old friends and family. They couldn’t see what he had lost, they knew he had, but they didn’t have anything to compare him to.

They asked more about Kate since she was the one who caused the accident. After hearing the story of their ‘on again off again’ relationship, they explained to him that she was a disaster.

At the time, Derek was still sort of hung up on her. He didn’t understand why she was angry. What had happened. She wouldn’t talk to him. He just wanted to fix things.

Erica, very clearly, pointed out that it was an opportunity to let her go and start new.

To find happiness.

Derek thinks about all the nights he spent alone digging through his mind. A glimpse, a picture, anything from those two lost years to point him in the right direction, toward the thing that had (according to _everyone_ ) changed him for the better.

He’d feel his pulse quicken, the sweat come in, the panic taking over. “ _The fear, the fear of falling apart.”_ He could almost feel it now. The ground falling out below him. Derek imagined there wasn’t anything worse than your own mind betraying you. You always felt out of control.

It was like standing on a glass floor, thousands of feet above a busy city street. You couldn’t see the floor, but you knew it was there because you were standing on it. And no matter how hard you squinted you couldn’t make out the pane of glass. All you could see was your feet hovering in mid air.

He knows he was there, his _physical body_ was there! He talked to people, did things, bought shoes, who knows? He doesn’t. But he _knows he was there,_ but doesn’t _know_ what happened. _What he did!_

Derek taps his chest, grounding himself, as Erica and Jackson repeat, “ _Oh, this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart.”_

He looks to his band, the lost souls, the broken ones who found him and took him in when he needed a fresh start. “ _This is gospel for the vagabonds, ne'er-do-wells and insufferable bastards. Confessing their apostasies, led away by imperfect impostors.”_ They were all broken alone, but together they were titanium. No one could hurt them, and no one was going to bend them to their will.

Derek smiles back out at the audience. _“Don’t try to sleep through the end of the world, and bury me alive, 'cause I won’t give up without a fight.”_

He sings the chorus again, throwing his body forward slightly with the force of his words. He thinks about his new life, how lucky he is.

Hands reach across the barrier trying to grasp at him, so he steps forward and grabs hands, faces screaming only feet from his face. The energy of the venue is overwhelming.

He finishes out the song making eye contact with as many people as he can. Trying to thank them for allowing him this opportunity, for allowing he and his band to find themselves. Derek still couldn’t grasp that this was his life now.

He may have lost a few memories, had a difficult recovery, but if he had never been in that accident, he would have never met the best people he ever had the privilege of knowing.

The people who helped form who he is today. The people that helped him make sense of how unhealthy his relationship with Kate had been. The people who reassured him that he didn’t have to try to be the guy that all of his other friends and family had grown accustomed to, that he was alive, that he was still his own person, that he was still and always would be growing.

The people that pushed him to write music, to sing, to try and get signed.

Derek looks back at Stiles to see him chewing on his cheek, thoughts written between his furrowed brows. When their eyes meet, Stiles smiles back at him, reassuring him that he was doing a good job, and Derek let his eyes linger.

Stiles was the light at the end of the tunnel. If Derek could just make it there, everything would be okay. There’s no way it couldn’t be. Stiles was one of the very few things that felt _right_ since the accident. Derek knew it the minute he saw him on stage.

Derek listens to Erica and Jackson sing, “ _This is the beat of my heart.”_ Over and over.

He realizes that as terrible as the accident was, he didn’t die, and somehow he ended up here.

Without the accident, Derek would have never met Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourself, this is a long one.
> 
> Writing is hard! I wanted to get this chapter out sooner but I was having a lot of trouble getting in Derek's head. I've bombarded my boo with "Why is Derek's head so hard to get into?!" "Why is writing so hard?!" "This is crap! I am crap!" All week, and she remains the ever enthusiastic cheerleader keeping me motivated.
> 
> I was having trouble because I knew I was focusing on Stiles too much, like I could wax poetic about his angst, and broken heart pieces. But for Derek there's so much more than "I dunno, i lost my mems and my ex was a crazy birch tree. I'm just tryna find tha musik maaan!" (I'm mocking myself, if you couldn't tell.) I spent a lot of time thinking about what he would have to have gone through, like he under went SERIOUS TRAUMA there was a lengthy recovery process, how does one deal with that? After kicking my own ass repeatedly...
> 
> I finally got into Derek's head, guys! I could write sonnets about him now, it feels amazing. I tried to insert some things in the chapter above, I will continue to bring light to his past, his recovery, and where he is going and the WHY's. 
> 
> This is just a hard one to write because I have to keep a lot of things straight. We have Past!Stiles; Past!Derek and all they went through to build that connection. Then Present!Stiles; Present!Derek and how Derek is drawn to Stiles in a new kind of way, but Stiles is dealing with an abyss of trauma and secrets and needs and wants and AGHHHH! Not to mention (I hate myself) because I care too much about side characters and have to keep all of their story lines straight too. 
> 
> Moving on. This story is def a WIP and it is only growing longer and longer because of freaking reasons, man. Have any of you ever looked at FOB or Panic!'s discographies??? There is a LOT to work with, and I am like a kid in a candy store. So many perfect songs to choose from. *Happy sigh* Then I have interviews, and music videos, and tour busses, and award shows and just ALL THE THINGS! 
> 
> This has the potential to be pretty long, so please! If I do something you don't like or you find faults in development please let me know, better to fix them now rather than later. Also, as I have said before, you can request things you would like to see. So far I have done the Sexting, and a little more Scallison this chapter :) I have a very special duet coming soon. So please, if there is something you want, tell me!! Something you like? Tell me. All comments and messages help point this stories arc, I already know the ending, but the road getting there isn't exactly mapped out, we can detour, haha. 
> 
> Alright, I'll shut up now. I luh ya cuties! 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	8. FLASHBACK: Turn off the lights and turn off the shyness.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to 2011 we go!

**January 2, 2011**

Stiles is curled up in his hotel bed longing to be back on the road and performing, because at least that would distract him from his current situation. He’s clicking through channels and barely registering what crosses the screen. He has a bottle of vodka between his legs trying to numb the ache in his chest, and fill the pit in his stomach.

Derek has been with Kate since the 28th, she wanted him to go with her to all the parties she had to make an appearance at for the new year. Stiles is about to spend his 6th night alone. They have been in this hotel for a few days having a gap between shows for the new year, so they could all spend it how they wanted, not that it benefited Stiles in any way. The only person he wanted to ring in the new year with was Derek, and that was not in the cards for them.

He wasn’t surprised. They knew the rules to their new relationship. They knew that any time Kate came calling, Derek would have to go. They knew this. They had discussed this in length many times.

Stiles wasn’t worried about Derek sleeping with her either, he really wasn’t, at least he was trying not to. There would always be that voice in the back of his mind reminding him of how much of a push over Derek is, or how he and Kate have a history that Stiles doesn’t have yet, or how Derek may not really be gay and just needs his girlfriend to show some affection.

Stiles is trying not to think about it.

He thinks about picking up his guitar and playing with some new sounds, but takes another swig from the bottle in his lap instead. When _Cheaters_ comes on the small television set, Stiles angrily hits the power button on the remote.

He slides down further under the covers with his bottle held tightly to his chest. He tries to clear his mind and takes in the room around him. It’s dark, all the lights off, the only light shining in through the glass window of his balcony that overlooks the city. He can hear the cars whir through the street below, sirens calling out in the distance, a few impatient honks here or there.

He can hear a couple in the room next to his arguing. Stiles can only hear every other word but from the sound of it, one of them is angry with the other because they forgot to pack their iPod dock. Stiles rolls his eyes and takes another swig from his bottle, and focusses back in on the siren in the distance, trying to determine if it was coming or going. Was it a robbery, or an accident? Was someone speeding or could it be a house call?

Stiles peels at the label of his bottle, begging for sleep to come. The sooner he sleeps, the sooner he gets on a bus to head to the next show.

Stiles hears the telltale sound of a card slipping into the slot of his door. He rolls his eyes taking another swig. Scott had already asked if Stiles wanted to hang out and Stiles had already told him no. There was no point in bringing his best friend down with his own misery.

Derek pushes through the door, dropping his bag on the floor, and walks straight for the balcony.

It takes a moment for Stiles to register what he’s seeing. Derek wasn’t supposed to be back until they made it to New Jersey in 39 hours (not that Stiles was counting).

Stiles takes in Derek’s profile from through the window as he lights a cigarette and inhales deeply, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose forcefully. Stiles replays Derek’s entrance and catalogues Derek’s expression.

Derek’s eyes were glassy, his jaw tight, but lips still parted, his shoulders tense and straight to his side. His fingers were curled up hiding below the length of his brown leather jacket, and Derek didn’t turn on a light or look around. He had a destination and wasn’t letting anything stop him.

Something was wrong.

Stiles hadn’t seen Derek act like this since before, way before, back when Derek was still complaining about Kate during late nights on the bus or in a hotel room somewhere.

Stiles watched Derek closer, trying to determine if he should go to him or not. His mind was telling him that Derek slept with Kate, or wanted to, or wanted to break things off with Stiles, or that he told Kate, or that he couldn’t do this anymore, or about a million other worst case scenarios.

Stiles knew better though, he had faith in their relationship. Also, Derek had come straight to him bags and all, bypassing his own room to drop them off.

Stiles rolls out of bed and grabs the orange juice from the small fridge making an extra strong Screwdriver for Derek and slides the door open to meet Derek on the balcony.

Derek must not have heard the door because when Stiles walks up behind him and slips his arms around Derek’s middle, Derek flinches. Stiles rests his forehead against the back of Derek’s neck and Derek relaxes into Stiles arms.

When Derek brings his hands up to rest against Stiles’ he finds the mixed drink and takes it to bring up to his lips. They don’t say anything for a few minutes, just resting against each other for comfort. Reacquainting themselves with the embrace of the other.

“Hi.” Derek finally whispers, brushing a thumb over Stiles’ knuckle.

Stiles lifts his head from where he had been cursing the scent of Kate’s perfume and hooks his chin over Derek’s shoulder. “Missed you.” Stiles whispers into Derek’s ear.

Derek tilts his head to rest against the side of Stiles head, then throws his cigarette butt over the balcony. “You have no idea.” He breathes.

Stiles kisses his neck and tightens his grip around Derek’s waist, because he does, he really does.

Derek downs half his drink and lights another, finally resting his weight back against Stiles, who’s more than happy to take the responsibility.

“I didn’t think I was going to see you until Jersey.” Stiles mumbles into Derek’s neck.

Derek is silent for a moment before he responds. “We had a fight.”

Stiles responds with a questioning sound.

“I didn’t… I wouldn’t sleep with her.” Derek takes a long drag. “She was drunk, and I told her I wasn’t in the mood.” He rubs Stiles’ thumb again. “She got angry.”

Stiles remains still behind Derek.

Derek turns his head quickly. “I didn’t.”

“I know.” Stiles breathes, inhaling behind Derek’s ear. “I trust you.”

Derek throws the remaining half of his cigarette over the rail before he turns in Stiles arms and secures his own around Stiles’ shoulders.

They stare at each other for a long moment before Derek pushes forward and claims Stiles’ lips with his own. It’s chaste, but desperate, and Stiles understands it all too well.

Derek rubs circles in the back of Stiles’ neck, pulling him closer by the second. He parts his lips and Stiles immediately takes Derek’s bottom lip between his and gives it a hard suck. Derek exhales heavily before taking the first opportunity to slip his tongue into Stiles mouth.

Stiles pulls Derek flush against himself and revels in the taste of orange juice, vodka, and smoke on Derek’s tongue. All things that Stiles will only ever associate with Derek.

They reacquaint themselves with the other for another few minutes before they slow down and separate with pressed foreheads.

“You smell like her.” Stiles says before he can stop himself. It had been bothering him more than he wanted to admit, but standing so close to Derek, vulnerable, and a little buzzed apparently rendered his filter useless.

Derek closes his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to say that. It’s okay. I’m sorry.” Stiles tries to soothe.

Derek doesn’t look like he thinks Stiles should be sorry, and that he feels like the worst excuse for a human being.

“Hey, soon enough you’ll always smell like me. I’ll be so deep in that tough skin of yours you couldn’t scrub me out with a steel brush.” Stiles quirks a corner of his lips, letting his eyes droop with the thought.

Derek nods weakly, “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“You can hold me to everything.” Stiles winks before taking Derek’s empty cup and dragging him back into the room.  

Stiles hands Derek the bottle before reaching for ice and the carton of juice.

Derek gulps two or three large mouth fulls before handing it back to Stiles to finish mixing his drink.

“I’ll never understand how you can drink vodka like water.” Stiles shakes his head to the smug shine in Derek’s eye. Sure, Stiles had been drinking it straight all night, but only because it made him feel closer to Derek. Now that Derek was here, he handed the glass back and reached into the fridge for a beer.

“And I’ll never understand how you enjoy the taste of piss.” Derek turns the corners of his mouth down at the beer in Stiles’ hand.

Stiles rolls his eyes at the never ending disagreement. It was an acquired taste, okay?

Derek sipped at his drink before shrugging off his jacket. “I should take a shower.”

Stiles felt a pang of regret for his slip outside. “You don’t have to.” He pauses taking a long drink from his beer and taking in the heavy form of Derek. “Lydia gave me a bottle of bubble bath if you’d rather…”

Derek nods quickly.

Stiles smiles, “Okay.” He didn’t expect Derek to accept, but when Stiles was having a bad day bubble baths always relaxed the strain in his muscles. That’s why Lydia had given him the bottle while Derek was away.

He leaves Derek standing by the fridge to start running the bath. He might put in double the recommended amount, sue him. He wants to spoil Derek in anyway that he can.

Derek comes in only wearing his briefs and stands behind Stiles who’s stirring the water roughly to amplify the bubble mountain that’s been growing since he added the soap.

“Right.” Stiles says wiping the bubbles off his hand into his loose sleep pants. “I’ll just…” Stiles moves to walk around Derek back into the room to give Derek some time to himself. Even if Stiles would rather plaster himself to Derek and never let him go, they aren’t quite up to naked times. He barely makes it through the door when Derek calls out to him quietly.

“Wait.”

Stiles turns his head with a raised eyebrow.

“You can… if you want.” Derek looks from Stiles face to the tub, swallowing thickly.

“Yea, I mean, I, yes, I want.” Stiles stutters, “But only if you do, I’m fine with waiting out there.” Stiles sucks his lips between his teeth, trying not to dive head first into the tub because naked time with Derek is the best time, but technically they’ve never seen each other naked, most things have been teen rated so far.

“If I didn’t want, I wouldn’t have asked.” Derek rolls his eyes, the bob of his adam’s apple giving indication of nerves.

Stiles curls his lips down in a smile, seeing his Derek come back to him. Stiles allows himself to nod and turns his back to pull his shirt off while Derek removes his boxers and slides into the tub and turns it off. Stiles flicks off the main light, leaving only the faint glow from over the toilet to fill the room.

Stiles isn’t ashamed of his body, he’s filled out a lot since highschool, but he still has the fear that Derek will take one look at him and realize that _yea, maybe he isn’t that into guys_ . Stiles lets himself believe that the dim light will protect him. He turns around to find Derek tuning his head away quickly like he had been staring at Stiles’ rear. That makes Stiles feel a little better. If nothing else, Stiles knew his ass was definitely an _Asset_.

With Derek not looking Stiles slips out of his pajama bottoms and slips into the tub facing Derek. It’s a roomy tub and they are both able to sit at opposite ends and stretch their legs out along the length of each other’s legs, both covered by the thick layer of bubbles.

They sit in silence, sipping their drinks that Stiles had enough foresight to grab before settling into the tub. Derek breaks the silence. “You know I’ll end things with her the second you tell me to.”

“I know.” Stiles breathes, wishing they could stop thinking about the intricacies of their affair. “If you want to end it, you know I won’t stop you.” Stiles swallows his beer. “But we agreed it’s better this way.”

Derek stares at Stiles chest, nodding slowly, like he’s reminding himself of all their conversations.

They knew that if they told Kate before Stiles had the chance to renegotiate his contract, then Kate would make it near impossible for Derek to follow them through tour, and would always be hanging over their shoulders making Derek feel guilty. That was _best_ case scenario.

They both knew that Kate was not only bad _for_ Derek, but she was bad _to_ him. She didn’t care about him. Technically, Derek wasn’t doing anything different with Kate since he and Stiles started messing around. She still ignores him until she wants him on her arm, and that’s it. She wasn’t missing out on anything, _well aside from the obvious because Derek is everything, a gift to mankind,_ but she couldn’t even see a difference. That is until Derek refused to sleep with her, which they just had to hope wouldn’t be too big a deal.

“I won’t make you stay with her, Der. It’s your choice.” Stiles reassured, poking Derek’s hip with his toe.

Derek meets his eyes and nods. “I know. I just don’t like lying. And I really don’t like not being allowed to be with you when I want.”

Stiles quirks his lip up at that, “Well we can both agree on that.”

Derek picks up one of Stiles’ feet beside him and rests it against his chest, rubbing his marvelous thumbs into the sole of his foot.

The sound that leaves Stiles’ mouth is the most pornographic sound Stiles has ever heard, and he’s watched _a lot_ of porn. It only amplifies as it bounces off the surrounding porcelain of the bathroom.

Derek’s face radiates as the sounds pour out of Stiles’ mouth uncontrollably, Stiles’ body sinking into the tub further as he goes limp.

“Fucking Christ, please don’t stop.” Stiles moans into his forearm that is draped across his face trying to muffle the sound escaping him.

Derek doesn’t stop, he deepens his strokes, fingers working at the tendons across the top of his foot. Then he threads his fingers through the gaps in his toes, rubbing all the flesh between with thick fingers, his toes never standing a chance.

“Fuck.” Stiles whimpers. His breathing escalates and he feels like he can’t breathe, but also feels more relaxed than he has in months. Stiles can’t make sense of what his body is telling him.

When Derek brings his other hand back to the sole of his foot and simultaneously rubs his thumb along the center of his foot while still threading his fingers in and out of the gaps in his toes, Stiles gets an idea of what his body is telling him. He can feel the blood rush to his middle, there’s nothing he can do to stop it. At least the bubbles can protect him.

Stiles tries his very best not to look like a wanton whore, but he knows the battle is already lost. He’s throbbing between his legs, he’s sweating from the steam rising from the tub mixed with his arousal, and he can feel his hair sticking to his skin all over. Then you have his heaving chest and his fucking mouth. Sometimes, Stiles hates himself.

Suddenly, Derek drops Stiles’ foot and deems the massage over. Stiles momentarily mourns the loss of nice things before Derek reaches forward retrieving a hand and pulling. Stiles panics as his balance is lost and his body is spun around.

“Is this okay?” Derek asks before settling Stiles against his chest between his legs.

“Mhmm.” Stiles mumbles, still boneless.

Derek brings Stiles’ back flush with his chest and lets out a deep sigh.

Stiles revels in the intimacy, he should have run a bubble bath ages ago. He makes a mental note to thank Lydia for the soap. Stiles also tries not to pout over the fact that Derek arranged him in just the right way to keep the distance between his waist and Stiles back. Stiles is trying to be good, he really is, but damn, he needs that dick _soon_.

Derek kneads the flesh of Stiles shoulders under his strong hands, slowly sliding his hands down his arms squeezing more muscles than Stiles knew he possessed. Derek squirts some complimentary soap from the hotel into his hands and proceeds to rub Stiles neck and chest with the guise of cleanliness.

Stiles closes his eyes letting his head lol from side to side, wherever the movement sends him. Stiles thinks about Derek’s hands. How strong, and thick they are. How confident, and precise they work. How _right_ they feel against his skin. He feels his cock pulse at the thought of Derek opening him up with such dexterity.

Derek’s thumbs brush over Stiles too hard nipples, that are far from cold, Derek has to know what he’s doing to Stiles.

Stiles lets out a heavy breath with the sensation.

They still haven’t said anything, and Stiles knows he should feel awkward with the long drawn out silence of Derek acquainting himself with more and more plains of Stiles naked skin, but he feels too good to worry. He also knows that he isn’t instigating any of this so he has nothing to be ashamed of, Derek can do whatever he wants to Stiles and he will take it all.

Derek slides his hands under the water behind Stiles and under his arms, running his heavy fingers across his ribs and down across his hips. Derek works at the muscles there, his fingers working forward slightly.

The closer he gets to Stiles’ happy trail, and vee, the heavier his length grows and pulses with need. Stiles is biting back moans, his head no longer trying to hold itself up, just hanging slack against Derek’s shoulder.

Derek kisses his cheek bone, eyes heavy, uplift to one corner of his mouth. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re a menace.” Stiles mumbles, picking up Derek’s drink and taking a sip, before holding it up to Derek.

Derek meets the cup with his lips and Stiles tilts it slightly so the mixture can slip into his mouth. A few drops slide from the corner of his mouth and Stiles chases it with his tongue, sucking Derek’s jaw into his mouth. Derek groans above him, and Stiles’ entire body electrifies in response.

Stiles moans, scraping his teeth across Derek’s stubble.

Derek twists his head further down and bites into Stiles’ mouth. Demanding entrance.

Stiles couldn’t deny him if he tried. His entire body limp, and at the mercy of his boyfriend.

Derek kisses him rough, and thorough. His arms wrapping around Stiles’ middle, pulling tight, eliciting yet another whimper from Stiles into his mouth.

Stiles loses track of the direction Derek’s hands are traveling and then he feels Derek’s forearm bump against the tip of his throbbing length. Stiles bites a moan into Derek’s lip and Derek freezes. Stiles pulls his head back, trying to sober himself. “I’m sorry. Just ignore it. You remember last time.” Stiles tries to explain, remembering when Derek had rubbed his feet that first time and how Stiles had popped a semi, and how Stiles told him he wouldn’t apologize for his body's reaction to pleasure.

Derek runs his nose along Stiles cheekbone, eyes dark, deep in thought. Just as Stiles begins to worry what Derek might be thinking, Derek slides the broad side of his forearm further down Stiles’ stomach, grazing the length of Stiles.

“Derek. If you- I won’t- it’s really okay. Just ignore it.” Stiles clenches his eyes shut doing his very best to ignore the sparks running up his spine at the faintest of touches from Derek.

Derek sucks Stiles’ ear into his mouth. “I don’t want to ignore it.”

Stiles gapes, harsh breathes fighting their way out as Stiles tries desperately to hold his breath. Afraid the smallest movement might spook Derek away.

Derek runs his hands down Stiles’ thighs, kneading the thick muscle, every time he slides up he presses purposeful fingers just centimeters away from Stiles groin. essentially outlining Stiles shaft.

“Fuck, Derek.” Stiles groans, body contracting, arching into Derek’s touch. “If you don’t stop…”

Derek shushes him, “Do you want me to stop?”

Stiles feels wrecked, “No. No. No. Derek. God.” Stiles latches onto the underside of Derek’s chin trying to will himself to shut up. “I just don’t want you to do something you aren’t ready for. It’s okay. Just let me get up, and I’ll go-”

Derek kisses him hard, and brings one hand up to knead the flesh on one of Stiles hips, and the other slides up his thigh, and around the base of his cock.

“Hnng.” Stiles feels his eyes roll into the back of his head. His body thrusts up into the firm grip.”Oh my God!” Stiles cries letting his arms fall into the tub so he can grip Derek’s meaty thighs below him and find some sort of stability.

Derek begins a slow, but steady stroke, his fingers memorizing every throbbing vein and bulge. After a few strokes, Derek leans his head down and sucks at Stiles‘ shoulder.

Stiles finally lets himself go, he thrusts, he thrives, he arches, he keens. If someone asked him his name he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t even know what a _name_ _was_.

“It’s scary how much I want you, Stiles.” Derek whispers, his hands growing more and more confident. “And I don’t mean just like this. I mean, it physically pains me to not be around you, to not hear you laugh, to not see you smile, to not see you drool all over the mattress.”

Stiles can’t respond, can only huff as he searches for Derek’s eyes.

“And I don’t expect you to feel the same way, I mean, I barely know what I’m doing, but no one has ever made me as happy as you do.”

“I do!” Stiles huffs, “I do. God, Derek, fuck.” Stiles bites his lip at a special twist of Derek’s wrist. “We really shouldn’t be having this- ah - conversati-ah-on right now.”

“Why not?” Derek smirks, the bastard.

Stiles bites his lip determined to get what he means across. “They say that declarations during-” Stiles does not gasp, he really doesn’t, “-sex, don’t count.”

Derek seems to nod in acceptance, then speeds up his movements, stripping Stiles of any sanity he might have had left.

Stiles scoots himself up, trying to gain better access of Derek’s face, any part of it that he can get his lips on, and in doing so, he brings his back flush with Derek. Where Stiles is officially introduced, in the naked variety, to Derek’s dick.

Derek moans into Stiles’ mouth, finally getting some much needed relief for his neglected member. “Mmm, Stiles.” Derek sucks the air right out of Stiles lungs, his hips thrusting with the stroke of his hand on Stiles.

Stiles focusses on making his back move to bring Derek pleasure and almost forgets about his own release. He can feel Derek shaking behind him, falling apart in the most beautiful way. Stiles kisses him, rubs his thighs, thrusts into Derek’s grasp and then back along his length.

Stiles fights his internal monologue of ‘ _come for me.’_ because he doesn’t want to rush Derek. He wants Derek to explore all the sensations, all the tinys sparks of pleasure, to make it last as long as possible. Stiles doesn’t want this to ever end.

Stiles fights the urge to close his eyes, wanting to catalogue every expression that flickers across Derek’s face over his shoulder. The pinched eyebrows, the parted lips with only two teeth poking out from under, the rosy red ears, the swollen lips, the depth of his eyes that are completely consumed by the swollen black center.

Then there are the sounds he’s making. Broken whimpers, desperate moans, pleading cries.

“Derek, you’re fucking beautiful.” Stiles says dreamily as he snakes a hand behind himself and lets his fingers finally touch Derek’s warmth.

Derek chokes, his eyes screwing shut, his hand stilling and growing only tighter, and his hips stutter below Stiles and Stiles can barely feel the warm pulses under the slightly less warm bath water. Derek doesn’t even get to collect himself and try to resume his work on Stiles before Stiles falls face first off the same cliff Derek did.

They both pant and weakly pet each other as their heart rates return to safe patterns. Stiles doesn’t fight it when sleep takes him.

Stiles wakes up to Derek running his fingers through his hair and whispering his name. “Mmm, sleep. Sleepy times are happening.” Stiles slurs nestling his head further back into the crook of Derek’s shoulder.

Derek chuckles, “We’re going to catch a cold, Stiles. Let’s get out and go to bed.” He kisses Stiles’ temple. “Then we can definitely resume sleepy times.”

Stiles can feel Derek grin against his temple. “Fine. You win.”

“And you didn’t?” Derek asks as Stiles pushes himself to his feet.

“Oh no.” Stiles turns flailing a very enthusiastic hand. “I won the fucking lottery, the secret to eternal life, a sip from the fountain of youth.”

Derek blushes following Stiles up out of the water, and only then does he realize they are both standing naked and that is _definitely_ Derek’s dick. Derek swallows, but doesn’t try to cover himself, when he notices Stiles staring.

“Come here.” Stiles begs quietly, and Derek takes a few steps forward into Stiles’ space. Stiles pulls Derek’s hand forward, bringing them close enough to kiss, chests bumping. “I am the luckiest guy- I _really_ don’t deserve you.” Stiles says melodically.

Derek huffs, “Yea, _you’re_ the lucky one.” Derek kisses him softly before leading Stiles back to bed.

They don’t get dressed and Stiles falls asleep with Derek wrapped around him.

Stiles worries that all of this was a dream, and that he was going to wake up with the worst hangover of his life, and not see Derek for another 34 hours.

* * *

 

**January 5, 2011**

Stiles is lounging in the back of the bus on one of the couches answering fan questions on twitter while Derek sits on the floor with his laptop open in his lap, filling cell after cell in his excel sheet. Stiles watches in fascination at the quick taps of keys. “Why accounting?” Stiles asks.

“Hmm?” Derek asks, fingers not missing a beat against the keyboard.

Derek was working on yet another degree to add to his belt, working on some homework during the long trek from one state to another.

“Why accounting? Why did you choose that for your career?” Stiles clarifies.

Derek doesn’t answer for a minute finishing a column of numbers. “I’m good at it, with numbers.” Derek shrugs, moving onto another series of numbers and formulas.

Stiles scoffs turning on his side behind Derek, taking a break from the fans. “And I’m good at giving head, but I’m not a porn star.”

Derek growls in front of him, which does things to Stiles.

“I’m more than happy to demonstrate.” Stiles whispers into Derek’s ear, who shivers below him. They haven’t done much since that night in the hotel room three nights ago, but Stiles is okay with that. More than happy to continue at their slow pace, just as long as Stiles can spend as much time with Derek as possible.

Derek clears his throat. “My dad, he was an accountant.”

Stiles swallows, sobering, they didn’t talk about Derek’s dad often. Stiles doesn’t make a snarky comment again like, _Well, my dad’s a sherriff._ Instead he whispers quietly, “What was he like?”

Derek hesitates, face lifted from the computer and staring out at the dark road that flies by through the window. “He was strong, smart, he worshiped my mother, did everything for our family. He just wanted everyone to be happy. He was more than happy to go along with what we all wanted, because all he wanted was for us to enjoy ourselves.”

“Kind of like you.” Stiles muses.

Derek doesn’t answer. He drops his head and nods. When Derek does say something else it’s not what Stiles was expecting. “After his passing… my mom didn’t handle it well… which was expected.”

Stiles nods, remembering his dad after his mom passing.

“Then when I joined lacrosse my mom mentioned that he would be proud of me. Would have been at all my games, would have been the loudest voice in the crowd.” Derek smiles at the thought. “I think she tried to make up for the absence herself - her and Peter’s sound level was deafening.” Derek laughs, probably remembering her enthusiastic cheering from the tall bleachers. “Then I started making good grades in my math classes and she told me I got it from my dad, and that I was becoming more and more like him every day.” Derek swallows. “Every time I did something like him, she would light up, she would smile again, more often - I think I just stepped into his shoes because all I wanted was to see her happy, and I just never stopped.” He finishes turning the page in his book beside him to continue his spreadsheet.

“Are you happy?” Stiles asks.

Derek turns his head to smile at Stiles, tilting his head to kiss Stiles’ cheek. “Yea.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “not with me, I mean your life, your future.”

Derek shrugs.

“What do you want?” Stiles asks, getting to the point.

Derek shrugs again.

“Derek, where do you see yourself in the next five years?” It breaks Stiles heart to think Derek doesn’t have any dreams.

Derek shrugs again, “where do you see yourself?” He counters.

Stiles sits up, “This isn’t about me.” Stiles cuts. “I’ll tell you, but I’m not going to tell you now just so you can say that’s what you want too. I won’t have you just following me around like you do Kate.” Stiles bites his tongue. “Did Kate. I want you to get what you want.” Stiles finishes.

Derek sighs, rubbing a hand down his face, stretching the muscles. “I don’t know. No one has ever really asked me, I never thought about it, I just did what made people happy. I was good at lacrosse, I was good in school, I was good with numbers, I… I don’t know.”

Stiles nods. “You can think about it for awhile, but I mean it Derek. I want to know at least one thing that you want that is only for yourself. And if you _want_ to not tell me, that’s fine, but you better have it in your head.”

Derek nods seriously.

“Okay.” Stiles smiles, bumping his knee against Derek’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you to your homework.” Stiles stands up to walk to the front of the bus for a drink and leaves Derek tapping away at his laptop.

As he passes through the bunks he hears Isaac snoring, headphones muffed through Lydia’s curtain, and Scott giggling with Allison from behind his own curtain. Stiles smiles, happy that the two of them are making things work even though Kate was making it near impossible.

Kate was just a difficult person, but that was why _Fallout_ had been so successful, she didn’t take no for an answer and demanded much more than they deserved. Stiles tries not to feel guilty about what he was doing to her.

* * *

 

Derek wasn’t _not_ happy. He didn’t sacrifice anything to make others happy, he was more than happy to go along with what they wanted. If there ever was something he didn’t want he just didn’t do it, he didn’t make himself miserable in the interest of keeping everyone happy.

He only now realizes that this might be a problem.

Stiles wants to know what he _wants._ What his _dreams_ are.

Derek has no fucking idea.

Now that he’s thinking about it, all he can see in five years is Stiles. And again, as Stiles pointed out, if he said that- then all he would be doing is continuing to make Stiles happy because if Stiles was happy, then so was he.

He runs through the common dreams in his head trying to see if any of them stick out to him.

Travel? He already rode around the world with the band. Firefighter? No, fire still scared him. Law? No. Rockstar? Derek laughs, no. He runs through more and more and the only one that grabs him is _love._

He wants what his mom and dad had. That was why he tried so hard with Kate, because his mom and dad met in highschool, and they had lived happily ever after. Derek wanted that.

He knew he couldn’t have that with her, now.

When Stiles comes back through the curtain with two drinks in hand, Derek shoves the laptop off his lap and pulls Stiles down by his knees.

He could have that with Stiles.

Stiles squints his eyes at Derek from where he’s straddling Derek’s lap, still balancing the drinks in both hands. “What are you doing?”

“I _want_ to make-out my boyfriend.” Derek smirks, playing Stiles’ game.

The corners of Stiles’ lips curl down in a shy smile. “Boyfriend?”

Derek nods, “Definitely.”

Stiles smiles wide, and Derek leans forward bumping their noses together. “I really need to put these down.” Stiles says desperately, looking at his hands on either side still holding the drinks upright.

Derek takes one at a time and places them an arms length away. When he turns his head back, Stiles has his face in his hands, and pulls Derek forward into a kiss.

Stiles does exactly what Derek asked for and makes out with him, in great depth.

Their hips are shifting with the desperation of their lips, the need to be closer, and Derek feels not only Stiles, but himself grow harder by the second.

They hit a pothole and Stiles bounces in the air and then back down, ass landing right on Derek’s length. Derek’s head falls back at the shock that runs through his system.

Stiles grinds his ass across Derek’s length with the new position. He licks up Derek’s neck, moaning in need, careful not to latch on and give Derek a hickey like Derek had back in the tub at the hotel.

“Is everyone sleeping?” Derek asks huskily.

Stiles nods against his neck.

Derek pulls Stiles tighter, thrusting up into the cleft of Stiles ass.

“Why?” Stiles huffs.

Derek averts his eyes a second, “I can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier.”

“Hmm?” Stiles asks, pulling back to look at Derek, not following what Derek was referring to.

Derek brings his thumb up to caress a mole on Stiles’ cheek.

Stiles swists his head slightly to slip Derek’s thumb into his mouth

“That!” Derek groans. “You said… that you… fuck.” Derek imagines how blown his eyes must be right now, at Stiles’ lips pursed around one of his fingers. It’s almost too much to handle.

“Oh, about my head abilities?” Stiles eyes grow darker and he sucks harder, taking two fingers into his mouth.

“We’ve never…” Derek pants.

“Do you _want?”_ Stiles asks, a wicked gleam in his eye.

“If you want, I want.” Derek responds.

Stiles pulls off his fingers. “Ah, ah. What did we talk about?”

Derek swallows. “I _want.”_

Stiles whimpers at that, lacing his fingers with Derek’s and pinning them to the edge of the couch on either side of Derek, latching onto Derek’s lips, while his ass grinds harder into Derek below him.

“Fuck, Stiles.” Derek cries, wanting more, anything, whatever Stiles would give him.

“Shh.” Stiles whispers, “don’t go waking everyone up.”

Derek nods and Stiles smirks as he slides back off of his lap, tilting his head up requesting that Derek sit on the couch. By some miracle, Derek is able to push himself onto the edge and scoot back.

Stiles settles between his legs, dark eyes peeking below long eyelashes, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Derek surges forward pulling Stiles into a wet kiss, torn between just devouring Stiles and letting Stiles do what he asked of him.

Stiles pushes Derek back, working his mouth down the side of Derek’s neck, fingers working at his fly. Stiles palms him through his boxer briefs, tongue sliding against his bottom lip more frequently.

“Fuck, Stiles, your mouth, your tongue.” Derek breathes unable to feel the motion of the buss anymore, consumed by the spinning of his brain at the new development.

Stiles strokes gently, lowering himself to the floor. “You don’t even know the half of it yet.”

It’s not a teasing response, it’s a promise and Derek moans in anticipation of the coming events.

Stiles pulls him free of his boxers and Derek chokes, the only time Stiles’ fingers have come into contact with him was in the bath, and it was just a brush of finger tips and that alone had Derek shooting, not too far different than now, but Derek holds back, needing to have Stiles lips stretched around him.

Stiles leans forward, not leaving Derek’s eyes, making sure he doesn’t see any hesitation reflecting back at him. Derek has picked up on just how careful he is when it comes to taking further steps with Derek, taking his experience or (lack thereof) into consideration.

Stiles runs a broad tongue up the length of Derek and his entire body contracts at the slick wet slide.

“Stiles. Please.”

Stiles doesn’t hesitate any longer and takes Derek in one quick motion.

Derek’s vision whites out at the slick, wet, heat of Stiles mouth encompassing him.

Stiles runs his hands under Derek’s shirt, fingers pressing into his abs, scratching at the dusting of hair across his chest. Stiles finds a rhythm and slides on and off Derek in fervor. Stiles tongue works mercilessly, tracing all the throbbing veins along his length, and poking at his slit at the head.

Derek had no idea a blow job could feel this good. Sure, Kate had given him a few, but she was more apt to just climb on and take control of her own release. She said that it was selfish for him to want head, because then he couldn’t last long enough for her to get off.

This was destroying everything he thought he knew, and showing him all that could be.

Every time a noise slips from his lips with something Stiles does, the corner of Stiles’ mouth quirks like he’s trying to smile, pleased with his work. Stiles eyes close occasionally, like he’s the one overwhelmed, but he keeps his eyes on Derek as much as possible. He pulls off with a wet pop, stroking Derek tightly. “You like that?” Stiles smirks, the amber of his eyes blotted out by the large black ink in his eyes.

All Derek can do is nod.

Stiles leans forward and licks a stripe between Derek’s balls.

A laugh punches out of Derek’s chest, and Derek would be embarrassed if he wasn’t floating on cloud fucking nine.

Stiles tongue pulls back into his mouth, and he blinks up at Derek. “Did you just… laugh?”

Derek laughs harder, sanity long gone. “Yea, apparently. I - I never - what was that? God, Stiles, fuck - do that again!”

Stiles does. A lot.

They both figure out, pretty quickly, how sensitive Derek’s balls are, and Stiles uses it to his advantage. He sucks and kneads, and licks, his hand still stroking all the while. When he returns to sucking his length, Stiles’ hands resume rolling Derek’s balls between his fingers.

Derek is stunned he’s lasted this long, especially with the wrecked look on Stiles face. His lips swollen and red, chin wet, hair askew from Derek’s fingers.

When Stiles takes Derek deeper, the head hitting the back of his throat, and holds there, letting his throat contract around the swollen head, Derek finally loses it. His hips buck off the couch, every muscle contracting in his stomach, head thrown back, panting like a wanton whore.

Stiles pulls off slowly, warm hand palming him through his release.

Belatedly, Derek feels bad for not giving Stiles a warning, but when he looks back down, Stiles is licking up all the remains. Stiles’ eyes are closed, his tongue slow and meticulous in the way it laps up every drop.

Derek pulls Stiles up by the armpits, needing him closer, and lays them out flat on the couch, Stiles below him, wrecked and used. Derek begins to slide down Stiles’ front, wanting to return the favor as best he can, when Stiles reaches for his shoulder, halting him.

“Don’t worry about it.” Stiles says weakly, eyes heavy.

Derek goes to move again. “But I want to.”

Stiles laughs, “That’s great, because believe me, so do I, but I can’t take much right now. Sensitive. I’m spent.” That’s when Derek realizes that there isn’t a line of heat pressing into his stomach.

“Did you..?” Derek asks, eyebrows threatening his hair line.

Stiles laughs, “Don’t look so surprised, you know how you affect me.”

Derek growls and scoots back up, lying flat against Stiles’ chest, sucking at his neck. He can do that now. They agreed that Stiles could have bruises, it was just Derek who couldn’t.

Stiles moans below him, stretching his neck up to allow Derek better access.

Derek can see the sleep taking Stiles quickly, something he’s noticed happens pretty much every time Stiles comes, and nudges him. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Stiles nods, breathing heavily in through his nose, his arms stretching above his head.

Derek stands up, straightening his boxers over his spent dick, dropping his pants and throwing them in the growing pile of laundry. He makes a note to take the bands clothes to a local laundry mat at the next location. He picks up the two drinks from the floor to dispose of them so they don’t fall over in the middle of the night.

Stiles strips his pants off too and heads toward the curtain, eyes barely open.

They manage to make it to their bunk without waking anyone, and Stiles climbs in first, scooting as far over as possible in the impossibly small bunk. Derek climbs in after, lying flat on his back so Stiles can drape his body over his. They cover up and Stiles sighs into his chest.

Derek kisses the top of Stiles head, knowing Stiles was almost asleep. Derek fights the urge to say what he wants to say, it being too early, and as Stiles had said _declarations made during sexual activities, didn’t count._ To be honest, Derek wasn’t sure if he did love Stiles, but damn was he teetering on the edge of that cliff.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muchas, porn? Yes, please!
> 
> Sorry this took so long to get out, I had a flooding issue in my bathroom - and it stunted my spare time to say the least. -___-
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed it! Luh ya, cuties!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	9. The great big void inside us opens up, and I really wish that you could help.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 6 months since Were! at the Disco signed on as the opener for Fallout Shelter, and 3 months into tour. Things begin to get a little cramped, tense, and stinky in the small bus that carries the two bands across the country.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title doesn't come from a Fall Out Boy song (like normal) but from [Happy Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r6i-LAiqC-U) by Bring me the Horizon, you should def give it a listen :)
> 
> Also, before we begin I want to plug something in here. One of my favorite past times is reading the comments on bookmarks and right now my favorite is one posted by HamadaZombie. 
> 
> Fall Out Boy + Panic! At the Disco + sexual tension + the pack in bands + blow minds writing + a lot of awesome things = sterek paradise for music lovers (and also non lovers)
> 
> This seriously is fueling me harder than anything right now. You're the best and I love you!
> 
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

It’s midday and the bus is well on its way across some state Stiles didn’t bother to pay attention to, after five tours they all sort of blend together. _Were!_ as a whole still pays attention to each town they pass through and buy little trinkets when they stop at a truck stop, their junk bunk collecting more and more keychains, shirts, and caps decorated with landmarks, places, and things. It’s only been about three months since the tour started and Stiles knows better than to think their collection will begin to taper off any time soon.

The eight of them are sprawled out in the back room of the bus watching Jackson and Scott annihilate each other on the xBox, a frequent pastime they have all adopted. Stiles is still waiting for Allison to finally pick up a controller and reestablish her position as reigning champion of all things game related.

For now, it seems that she and Scott are keeping that to themselves, either saving it for the perfect moment to spring it on Jackson, or simply because it’s something that is still private for them. They had never gone on a tour together, and Allison is beginning to realize just how little you can keep to yourself.

Everyone knows everything.

Stiles can see when Allison’s frustrations bleed through. She can’t change without someone walking in and catching her in her bra, or take a phone call without someone hollering obscenities, or sleep when she feels like getting some shut eye.

Life on the road is rough. They all had to acclimate long ago.

Scott sticks close to her, but still allows her space because the crowded bus can be overwhelming and make even the smallest mouse Hulk out.

Scott does his best to maintain her comfort in any way he can. He guards curtains when she goes to change or clean up, he threatens everyone with wet willies if they don’t stay quiet during one of her business calls, and he has invested in an array of earplugs for when she wants to sleep. He keeps her favorite Moscato in the fridge, and picks up pez dispensers whenever he finds a new one she doesn’t have.

Scott takes care of her.

Stiles checks his calendar. Just under a year until their contract comes back up for renegotiation, which they plan to alter so that Allison and Scott can go public. Kate is still pushing that management cannot date the talent, and they haven’t been successful the last few years in fighting that because they are also trying to shift their management from Kate to Allison, so it’s a bit of a contradiction. They have been trying to chose the lesser of two evils with each negotiation.

After the first few renegotiations they realized it’s better to go in with a plan, something small, the smaller the better because they seem to slip through. Kate makes a point to fight the big lists of demands.

Chris has been pretty solidly on their side. Not only is he a good guy who knows his sister is using her power to exact revenge, but Allison will always be at the top of his list of priorities. So far he has been able to shift all hands on management from Kate to Allison, basically acting as a restraining order so to speak. Kate has no reason, nor need, to ever spend extended time with the band anymore.

At this point, Kate just _holds_ their contract, and has final say on any scheduling conflicts - meaning: If _Fallout_ or Allison have anything scheduled, Kate can set up an entirely different one and force them to cancel on the existing appointment. The first few months were hell. She wouldn’t schedule anything until Allison had already gone through weeks of work to set up one show, only to have to cancel all the reservations and plans. Kate must have had her fill though because that slowed down after awhile. It only happened about once a month now.

After numerous meetings with Chris and Allison and a few of their in house lawyers, they are pretty sure that with the next contract renegotiation they will be able to remove any and all clauses stating they cannot have relations with management, but if they pushed for more it could ruin that, and Stiles might officially bash Kate over the head with a chair if she ruined someone else’s happiness.

It would be at least another two years after that, that they could try to officially push Kate out of the contract but that was still a long shot. When they signed their first contract so long ago, they had been careful. They had torn through all the sections about how much the label took from profits, and how much the band would be left with. It was right after the lawsuit with _30 Seconds to Mars_ and they were not about to make the same mistake. They did it right too, they made really good money. _Really good._

What they missed though? Was one innocuous line.

_As long as Fallout Shelter remain profitable, the holder of this contract will allow renegotiations of the contract annually, and will retain the right for all final negotiation settlements._

One line, among sixty-five pages of fine print, cost them their freedom. One line gave Kate full dictatorship over the band. One line established her power in all future negotiations where she could deny them almost anything.

One line.

Stiles is pulled out of his thoughts when his phone rings from his lap which is quickly grabbed by Erica, per the usual. Stiles thinks nothing of it until she squints down at the screen, then looks between Stiles and Derek. It takes stiles a second too long to realize who must be calling him. He quickly grabs the phone but Derek sees the screen as it passes in front of his face.

_Talia._

Fuck.

The smile that was just on Derek’s face, that has been present since the tour began, is now gone. His eyes wide and confused staring up from the floor at Stiles, begging for an answer. Stiles bites his tongue as the phone rings again and answers like nothing is wrong.

“Mrs. Hale.” Stiles fakes a smile. “What can I do for you today?”

There’s a brief pause before his adopted mother answers in a whisper. “I wasn’t thinking. How bad is it?”

Stiles counts his lucky stars that she whispered, because he knows no one around him was able to hear over the rumbling road beneath their feet. “Not a problem, we’re all just hanging out on the bus, trying to pass the time.” He clarifies that _Yes, Derek is right there._ “What did you wanna talk about?”

She clears her throat, finding her footing as well. “I came across an opportunity I thought you guys would be interested in.”

Stiles nods to the group of faces all looking for answers. “Awesome! Here, I’m putting you on speaker so you can tell us all about it.” Stiles does his best to keep his voice as professional as possible.

She allows a few seconds of time then addresses the group. “Hello everyone, I hope the road is treating you well?”

A few of them groan, and Derek keeps his eyes on the phone. Wrinkles etched into his face that Stiles hadn’t seen since Derek was still struggling with his relationship with Kate. It wasn’t a good look for him, and Stiles felt the guilt overwhelm him quickly over the fact that not only him, but Derek’s own mother was lying to him too.

“That’s a great idea!” Lydia chirps, shaking Stiles arm from his side. He missed what was said and nods enthusiastically, trusting Lydia’s judgement.

“I thought you would like it.” Talia coos from the phone. “Charity is always good. _St. Jude’s_ is a great place to get involved.”

Stiles was starting to put the pieces together. “When is it?”

“Next week, just as you pass through Memphis, I already made the arrangements because I knew you would say yes.”

Everyone rolls their eyes.

Stiles smiles.

“Also, it’s been months since I’ve seen my son, so a mother has to do what a mother has to do.”

Everyone can feel the words being directed at Derek who looks torn between affection and annoyance.

“Hi, mom.” Derek grumbles.

Stiles feels his heart clench at his tone. This is not good at all. Stiles leaves the phone with Lydia and Allison, who has scooted closer and is working expertly at her phone to make sure everything lines up as planned, and quickly solving any scheduling conflicts. He faintly hears them discuss the specifics as he pushes through the curtain and to the front of the bus for a bottle of water, and some space to try and come up with a plan to remedy the situation.

* * *

 

Derek sits and pretends to listen to the specifics after Stiles leaves the group.

How did Stiles know his mom? How long have they known each other? Is there a chance that he met Derek during those years he lost? If he did, does Stiles know him? If so, why hasn’t Stiles mentioned it? Does Stiles know about the memory loss? He doesn’t remember telling Stiles any specifics of his accident, just that he had been in one with Kate and it had landed him in the hospital which led him to meet his band.

There are too many unanswered questions swirling around his brain, and too many bodies on the floor with him, so he stands up to find some space on the small bus to think. He decides to find Stiles and try to get a few questions clarified.

He finds Stiles standing at the small kitchenette in the front sitting area of the bus, chugging a bottle of water. Stiles looks over to him when he enters and offers a relaxed smile.

Derek leans against the wall of cabinets where they keep their dry food. “So.” Derek starts. “You know my mom?”

Stiles nods, wiping a few stray drops of water away from his green flecked t shirt. “Yea, I’ve been involved with her foundation for a few years.”

Derek nods, trying to pick his next question.

“She’s nice.” Stiles offers into the small space between them.

Derek nods again.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asks, setting the bottle down, tilting his head down to search Derek’s eyes for answers as well, since he’s probably acting weirder than usual.

“Yea.” Derek answers impulsively, then corrects himself. “I don’t know. I-” Derek huffs, frustrated that he can’t find his words. “Have we ever... met?” Derek keeps his eyes on his fingers in front of his waist, not able to bring himself to look at Stiles so he can see the vulnerability in his eyes. Afraid to let Stiles see how damaged he is.

Derek has learned from past experience that when people find out he has brain damage it goes one of two ways. Initially, everyone thinks he’s handicap, which never ends well. They pity him, and go out of their way to cater to him. Or they want to know all about the accident and recovery, and make it their personal mission to try and fix him.

Derek hates it. He just wants to live a normal life and go on as though nothing ever happened to him, not be constantly reminded of his injury. He resists the urge to reach up to his scalp and run his thumb over his scar.

Derek realizes that Stiles hasn’t answered him, and it worries him. He lifts his head finally and the minute he locks eyes with Stiles, he can see the final movement of Stiles swallowing. Stiles must have taken another drink.

“Through the foundation?” Stiles asks with a shrug. “I don’t think so.”

He doesn’t ask Derek _why_. Derek thinks about asking Stiles if his mom had ever told him anything about him, but decides to take advantage of the fact that Stiles isn’t pushing for more information and lets the conversation end there.

The silence doesn’t last long before Allison comes through the curtain to tell them the official plan.

* * *

 

It’s the day of the Charity show at _St. Jude’s_ and _Were! at the Disco_ has already finished their short, acoustic set for the room full of children, and are now spreading themselves among the children as _Fallout Shelter_ sets up on the small platform to sing for the next half hour.

Derek looks around again at the children, now able to really take everything in from the side of the large room. Some of the children couldn’t be more that a few years, others were in their teens, and all of them were fighting the very DNA that makes them who they are. The DNA that is demanding to be heard. The DNA that won’t allow them a normal life.

They don’t seem to let it bother them though, or are too excited for their small concert to worry about their current health problems. Derek is more than happy to provide a moment of reprieve for them.

A few of the kids danced when they sang, some had to be supported by nurses but had fun none the less. Some closed their eyes and let their head rest against the back of their wheelchairs to listen, a peaceful smile caressing their cheeks. Others sat in their parents lap enjoying the experience with the leader of their support system.

Derek spots Boyd at the center of the kids, already sitting with at least three children in his lap, a fourth one trying to squeeze in, and another hanging from his back. They were all told that the kids that were at the show weren’t carrying anything contagious, the only thing wrong with them being their cancer, disabilities, a medical mystery, or a mixture of the three. Derek’s mom specifically requested that they mingle with the children as much as possible. Regardless, Derek knows that Boyd would be exactly where he is now even if the kids were ridden with plague.

Erica is over to the side where a few pre-teens have laid out their cosmetic products and are most likely asking for tips. Erica lifts an eyebrow to the nearest nurse who nods her permission. Erica sits down cross legged and begins to enthusiastically _oo_ and _ah_ over their few products, then demonstrate how to apply them, essentially giving each of them a makeover.

Jackson is at the back of the room with a few boys who have brought over a plush football, and are playing a game of toss with him. Jackson is actually smiling, and playing nice for once, soft tosses and all. Although, Derek isn’t too surprised because since the tour started, Jackson has lightened up and smiles easier.

“Hey mister?”

Derek looks down where his hand has been captured by tiny fingers to see pale brown eyes, and slick black hair looking up at him. She’s wearing a bright purple princess dress, and holding a small rabbit to her chest.

“Do you wanna sit with me and Queen Elizabeth?” She asks in the smallest voice Derek has ever heard. She shifts the stuffed animal indicating who the Queen is.

Derek smiles and squats down wanting to be closer to such innocence. “Of course! it would be my honor, your majesty!” Derek bows toward the Queen, he’s had a little experience with princesses back home. “And your name, my lady?”

“Princess Kaylea.” She giggles, holding her chin high as Derek kisses her hand in greeting. After all the formalities are through, she skips toward the stage dragging Derek along behind her.

When he looks up both Stiles and Lydia are smiling at him with his new friend who promptly pulls him to the floor and deems him throne worthy by taking her seat in his lap, and fluffing her dress in front of her. A few more kids crowd around him and claim his neck and both arms.

Derek lets his limbs hang like that of a puppet, allowing the children control, and looks up to see Stiles still smiling down at him. It’s a shy smile, the corner of his lips turned down, eyes squinting, cheeks tight.

Finally, Stiles leans into the microphone, and they begin playing. Due to the location, and audience, they have a calm acoustic set. They all sit in a line at the front of the platform, Isaac and Stiles with acoustic guitars propped on their knees, Lydia with a tambourine, and Scott with a small drum. The kids don’t notice how muted things are and enjoy this set as much as the thousands they perform for each night.

Derek finds himself being moved to the music, twirling petite little girls, and swayed by the arms around his neck and body resting against his back. Derek can feel the small form growing tired as they lean heavier on his back, which he is more than happy to support.

After a few songs, Princess Kaylea stands up to dance with her friends. When she looks back at Derek, Derek tilts his head toward the sleepy body behind him and then his lap asking the princess permission to fill her throne. The princess nods and proceeds to dance along with the current song, twirling her dress back and forth.

Derek taps the young arm around his neck and invites the girl behind him to sit. She nods lazily and Derek leads her around himself to take a seat. The small body curls up across his lap, her head sagging against his chest, and her arms cradled between their stomachs. The two kids to either side of him officially release his arms so that he can hold the girl who can’t be more than six in his arms.

He gets a secure grip on her, and feels her relax into his sturdy embrace, trusting him not to break her. Derek takes in her appearance, trying to determine how sick she might be. She doesn’t look too bad, her skin pink with blood flow, hair full and soft, but she is thin. Derek lifts his arm from her back to rub her shoulder in the same way he used to put his nieces and nephews to sleep, with her head still cradled between his bicep and chest.

That’s when he sees the IV port taped to the back of her hand, readily accessible for new fluids to be pumped into her. It’s been there awhile judging by the array of colors bruising the back of her hand. Derek resists the urge to hold her tighter, not wanting to cause any discomfort, but wanting to comfort her all the same.

“Alright, superstars!” Stiles calls over the small set of speakers. “Buckets are going to be passed around for you to take a light for this next song.”

Derek looks around and soon is handed a bucket that holds small blue lights that blink a soft yellow. When he lifts one for the girl in his lap he sees his mother’s logo printed along the handle.

 _Triskele Foundation_.

Derek smiles at the small Triskele printed between the words. The same symbol his dad had tattooed on his shoulder, the same symbol Derek now had between his shoulder blades.

“This song is for all you Superstars out there!” Lydia coos.

“[Every word's ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MxZbuoOz2rw) _a new regret if you say it right, right? Every wound can be forgotten in the right light._ ” Stiles sings smoothly, smiling as all the wands are held up to sway. _“Oh nostalgia, I don't need you anymore. 'Cause the salad days are over and the meat is at my door!”_

His arms maintain a slow glide over the strings over the guitar and Derek finds himself rocking the child in his lap to the pattern.

 _“They might try to tell you how you can live your life. But don't, don't forget it's your right. To do whatever you like, you like, you like, you like-”_ Stiles winks at the princess still dancing in front of him, which only spurs her into more dancing.

_“'Cause you could be your own spotlight. You could be your own spotlight. You could be your own spotlight!”_

This seems to excite the children who have maintained their energy and are still dancing. Derek sees a handful of kids stand back up to dance one last time. Derek smiles up at Stiles, knowing that Stiles is living for the range of expression in the room. The song he chose to end with is beautiful. Fitting. Perfect.

 _“You could be the star, you could shine so bright, You could be your own spotlight!”_ Stiles smiles brighter, eyes twinkling with the yellow lights from the group of kids. He exchanges glances with his band mates, all of them radiating the same joy.

_“Depression is a little bit like happy hour, right? So, it's gotta be happening somewhere on any given night. Oh nostalgia, I don't need you anymore. I just hope, my perfect stranger, that my kids look more like yours.”_

Derek sees the same light from the kids reflected in the eyes of the nurses and parents gathered around the edge of the room, touched by the sentiment offered up by Stiles. Stiles made sure to look a few parents in the eye at his last line, and Derek even feels his own heart constrict.

Stiles sings the chorus again with the rest of the band harmonizing with him, telling all the kids that they can be their own spotlight, and just how bright they shine, and to never let anyone tell them any different.

_“'Cause I had a little bit of bad luck. Under this crumbling world, stuck. A little sweetness keeps just out of reach. 'Cause compassion is something that they just don't, just don't teach, teach.”_

Stiles looks at Derek, a moment of sadness crossing his features that Derek cannot pinpoint the origin of before he resumes his encouragement with the kids of just how special they all are, and how much lay before them.

Derek lifts the girl's arm in his lap and sings along in her ear, as he sways the limb from one side to the other with the small light clasped in her nimble fingers, she smiles and hums with him, green eyes peeking up under heavy lids.

Derek could definitely see why his mother does what she does, and why Stiles would so easily get involved.

This? This is the best day of Derek’s life.

* * *

 

After they finished their performance they all spent another twenty minutes in the room mingling with parents, nurses, and the few children who hadn’t been taken back to their beds. They took photos, signed autographs, and discussed the possibility of visiting again. Then they were pulled away by nurses and split up to visit the children who couldn’t attend the show.

As luck would have it Derek is partnered up with Stiles and they are escorted to the floor they are to cover. The nurse introduces herself as Megan, and that she’s a huge fan, but she is going to escort them from room to room so she can inform them of any limitations with each patient.

The first room they stop at is filled with friends and family, all excited to meet the visitors today. Stiles is bursting with energy, offering up any encouragement and kind words that he can find.

Derek is reminded of all their meet and greets before shows. How Stiles will hone in on the person before him and do everything in his power to make them feel special and appreciated, nearly forgetting that he is in fact the one they are excited to see, and simply happy to share a smile among friends. He kisses cheeks, takes photos, short videos for sisters that couldn’t be there because they are off at college, snapchatting, complementing the crayon drawing on the wall by their bed, telling the nurses how amazing they are for doing what they do, praising the parents for such beautiful children, essentially keeping all conversation away from himself and focussing on the children.

They spend almost twenty minutes in the first room, and are reminded by a text from Allison that they only have another hour before they need to be getting back on the bus. Stiles looks put out at that, and Derek feels just as disappointed. He wants to spend the whole day with these kids.

They split up after that, another nurse coming to escort Stiles separately, and work their way from opposite ends of the hall.

Without Stiles to lead the conversation Derek does his best to mimic what Stiles had done in the first room, after two rooms it starts coming naturally. He’s smiling so hard he’s sure his cheeks are going to hurt tomorrow. A price he’s more than happy to pay.

They have fifteen minutes left and Derek spots Stiles enter the room next to his, so he knows this will be his last. The boy in the room is asleep. Morgan, the nurse, explains that the medication he’s on makes him drowsy and he tends to wake up frequently. If Derek wanted to sit for a few minutes in case he woke up, she was sure Michael would love to meet him. Derek doesn’t hesitate and pulls up the chair next to the boy.

Derek finds himself thinking about his stay in the hospital. How broken he had felt, how broken he _was_. He thinks about his family staying with him almost every night, how worried they had been, but tried to hide it from him. He knew though, he was always tuned into their comfort levels.

Derek wishes he could have been as optimistic as the youth he’s had the opportunity to get to know today. All of them so brave in the face of their treatments, defiant of anything that told them they couldn’t do something, determined to live their dreams.

Derek looks up to see Stiles leaning against the threshold with his arms crossed, looking between Derek and Michael, his face wilting by the second. Once they make eye contact he pushes off the door and walks over. They remain silent, watching the clock, hoping Michael would wake up before they had to leave.

Stiles walks over to the white board listing current treatment plans, and writes a note to Michael, Derek does the same before sitting down for their remaining five minutes.

The machine hooked up to the IV in the boy’s arm begins beeping obnoxiously and Stiles immediately reaches for the silent button, the error still blinking on the LED screen. Derek squints up at Stiles’ profile, briefly wondering how Stiles knew where to silence the alert, Derek only knew because of his stay in the hospital. Maybe it happened in a few of the other rooms.

Stiles curses under his breath as he reads the display, then turns to adjust Michael’s arm and needle. He’s gentle and precise, like he’s done this many times before. After he refreshes the screen and confirms the blockage has been cleared, Stiles looks back at the boy and smoothes a tense eyebrow threatening to wake up to the disturbance.

Derek looks up to Stiles’s sad, resigned eyes, and feels the air suck out of the room.

There’s a metallic taste in his mouth, a ringing in his ears, a dizziness that won't relent.

The only thing Derek can compare it to is Deja Vu.

He can’t remember what it is he’s remembering, but something about this situation hit him _hard._ He must have been remembering waking up to Laura correcting his IV one too many times or something.

Derek does his best to shake the feeling off, clears his throat, and stands up to let Stiles know it’s time for them to go.

Half an hour back on the road and Derek still hasn’t been able to forget the image of Stiles standing above Michael.

There was something behind his eyes, a source to pain Stiles hasn’t told him about. Had something happened to someone he cared about? Derek vaguely remembers a few comments about Stiles’ ex. So far though Stiles hasn’t divulged any specifics, but Derek knows it wasn’t a pretty ending. He had come to think it might have just been a bad break up, but now he can’t help but wonder. Then again, he does know that Stiles’ mom died in a hospital, but he was only a boy then, it wouldn’t make sense for him to have learned something like that.

No matter how much Derek tries to decode what might have been going through Stiles’ mind, he can’t ignore how familiar it felt to him _personally_.

* * *

 

They’re about an hour away from the next venue after the Charity Project at _St. Jude’s_ , and they are trying to clean up a little and prepare for the commotion that will be waiting outside of the arena. Everyone’s nerves are pulsing with electricity, ready to snap, since they hadn’t had the day to rest and they knew it would be at least another eight hours before any of them could get some sleep.

They hit a pothole and Stiles spills his water down the front of his shirt, that he just put on, and throws the entire bottle on the floor in a fit of rage. “I fucking quit!”

Derek stands up to get some towels, wanting to help Stiles out in any way he can. Stiles has done a lot for him and his band, and he is handling all the extra stress of indirectly managing another band gracefully. Derek tries to think of a time that Stiles has snapped, or done something rude. The only thing he can come up with is the time he heard Stiles and Kate fighting, and Derek still didn't’ have the full story there.

Derek’s walking back toward Stiles who is aggressively wiping at his shirt with his hand, when the bus slams on its breaks and Derek loses his balance. He barely registers the panic in Stiles’ eyes before he blacks out.

* * *

 

_“That’s it. I fucking quit!”_

_Derek looks up from where he’s lying on what seems to be a mattress and sees someone pacing the floor at the end of the bed. Derek recognizes him as the faceless man he’s been seeing in his dreams the last year._

_“I’ll quit, I swear to God!”_

_Even though Derek can’t see his facial expressions, he somehow feels it, like he knows exactly what is going on. Derek feels his mouth move, before he knows what he’s going to say. “No you’re not.” He scrunches his eyebrows together. “Where is this coming from?” His mouth and body continues to move without instruction from Derek._

_The man huffs, crossing his arms, then after a second or two, drops them to his side flopping them against his thighs. “I wanna take you on a damn date!”_

_Derek covers his mouth to hide his smile, putting the crossword he was working on down for the moment._

_“Don’t fucking laugh at me!”_

_Derek watches the guy’s shoulders droop, and head sag with defeat, no longer angry._

_“I just want to take you out, do couple stuff, ya know? All we ever do is...ya know? I just want to take you out on big extravagant dates, buy you flowers, dance in the rain, have a picnic at a park, all that cute shit.”_

_“Cute shit?” Derek smirks._

_“Yes, cute shit. Sign me the fuck up. Show me the dotted line, and I’ll sign it. Where’s the Cute Shit contract?”_

_Derek still can’t see his face, but he knows the guy is smiling, because he can feel the love radiating as he approaches the foot of the bed and crawls his way up to lay over Derek._

_“Cute shit, huh?” Derek smirks again._

_“Mhmm.” He murmurs, hot breath ghosting over Derek’s face._

_Derek breathes out a heavy sigh, settling under the weight on top of him. “I could get into that.”_

_“Yea?”_

_Derek brings his hands up to hold the man’s waist, wanting to be closer, happy with the contact._

_The guy leans down and kisses Derek soft and slow, humming into his mouth._

_Derek kisses back in the same fashion, reveling in the intimacy, the private interaction. Derek could stay there forever and never need anything else again._

_The guy pulls away. “One day I will take you on a date, I promise.”_

_“Ok, but for now, this is all I need.” Derek breathes before he leans up to kiss the object of his affections._

* * *

 

“Derek?!”

Derek opens his eyes to see Stiles hanging over him, he must still be on the floor of the bus, how long was he out?

Stiles grabs Derek’s face, eyes piercing into his skull searching for something. Tears threaten the rim of his eyes and his shirt is still soaked from the water before.

Derek can feel Stiles’ breath on his face, harsh, and rough.

“Derek? Do you know who I am?” Stiles voice trembles with the fading restraint Stiles still has over himself.

Derek frowns, reaching up to pull Stiles’ tight grip from his cheeks. “Most people ask ‘how many fingers?’” Derek tries for sarcasm, not wanting to touch the fact that Stiles might actually know about his brain damage.

Stiles pulls a hand away and rubs at his nose roughly, the control of his emotions going out the window.

“I’m fine, Stiles.”  Derek tries to reassure him. Why was he so upset?

Stiles blinks a few quick times, then nods his head once. “Good. You scared the hell out of me.” Stiles breathes, a high wave to his voice.

Derek looks around and sees the rest of the group looking just as concerned, Erica looking suspiciously at Stiles. Maybe she is thinking the same thing Derek is, that he knows about the specifics of the accident.

Scott shouts then. “What the hell happened?” Then rushes toward the front of the bus, most likely to yell at the driver.

“Someone call an ambulance.” Allison says from above him, worry written on her face, Derek knows she remembers.

Derek jerks to try and sit up, the last thing he wants is a headscan.

“No, stop!” Stiles cries, pushing against Derek’s shoulders to keep him down. When Derek stops resisting, Stiles relaxes slightly, his voice steadier as he speaks again. “Derek, please. You hit your head pretty hard. Just let me-” he bites his lip, fighting whatever is at war inside himself.

Derek nods weakly against the floor. He realizes this isn’t about his own past trauma, this has to do with Stiles. Derek has picked up on hints and clues for months now, that Stiles had a relationship that ended badly.

His instinct the first night in the trailer when he met Stiles and asked about what had upset him on stage during _The Mighty Fall_ , Stiles had told him it was about an ex, but didn’t offer more information, Derek’s instincts told him that something more than a break up had happen.

Now, Derek had the events from earlier in the day to add to his list of clues. Stiles had _known_ how to adjust the IV. He moved like he had done it a thousand times, the look on his face was…

Derek swallows below Stiles, putting more pieces together. Derek remains still until the ambulance gets there, letting Stiles inspect every centimeter of his skull with gentle fingers. The last thing Derek wants is to have to go to the hospital ever again, and he feels fine, but Stiles _isn’t._

Stiles eyes are still brimming with unshed tears, and his nose is a light shade of pink. His eyes are moving constantly, monitoring Derek with intense focus.

Derek counts the moles on his face for the hundredth time, wanting to connect them with kisses, to wipe the pain from his face. He wants Stiles to trust him and let him in so that Derek can reassure him that everything will be okay.

When the ambulance gets there, Derek allows them to maneuver him out of the bus and onto a gurney, with Stiles following on their heels until he’s secured in the ambulance. Derek watches Stiles slowly fade into the distance through the window, worry still plaguing his face, and a hand rubbing furiously at his nose.

* * *

 

Stiles doesn’t know how he made it back onto the bus, what anyone said to him for the remaining hour until they got to the venue, or how he made it through sound check. All he could focus on was if Derek was going to be okay.

When Derek fell, Stiles was thrown right back to the day of the accident, only this time he had a front row seat. He knows Derek just bumped his head, but Stiles couldn’t shake the feeling that Derek’s brain was already damaged, another good hit could do more damage. Derek could forget him all over again, or his new friends, or who _he_ is, or God forbid is could kill him.

He knows his reaction was suspicious, and he almost blew his cover, but his mind and body was acting of its own accord and didn’t run anything by him before doing what it wanted.

Stiles had already been vulnerable after they left the hospital. He was slammed with all the nights he spent standing over Derek’s bed begging him to wake up, all the nights he didn’t sleep because Derek kept bending his fucking arm and blocking the IV flow which made the machine scream at Stiles to fix it. Then Derek had been there too. In the hospital, awake, and not in a bed or hospital gown.

Stiles brain was already short circuiting. It’s not like he had a chance to grab a minute to himself after the visit, because all 8 of them were crammed in the bus trying to get ready for the show that night.

Stiles had already been ready to snap before Derek even hit his head. There’s no wonder he lost control of his carefully maintained facade when he was faced with Derek lying unconscious on the floor from a head injury.

That night _Were!_ didn’t open for them because Derek was still in the hospital going through a series of tests. Allison was with Derek and giving Stiles minute to minute updates, Talia was there too because Stiles had called her as soon as he was alone in his dressing room at the venue to make sure she knew.

Talia reassured Stiles that he did the right thing by insisting Derek get checked out, that she loved him and couldn’t think of anyone she trusted more with her son. Stiles let himself cry at that, finally voicing how worried he had been, how close he came to ripping open the same wound that nearly destroyed him years ago.

Talia reassured him that it couldn’t be that bad, there wasn’t any blood, and Derek was acting fine according to Stiles’ description of the incident. She also assured him that Derek would never forget him again, he couldn’t if he tried.

Stiles pointed out that there was no way they could be sure of that, and she soothed him like a small child afraid of the monster in his closet.

Everything was going to be fine.

Stiles remained in his dressing room until the show started and listened to music until his brain relented.

While listening to [Happy Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r6i-LAiqC-U) by _Bring me the Horizon_ , he was slammed with a great idea, and hopped up to run to Scott.

Scott was working out in his dressing room like he did before every show.

“Scott, I have an idea!” Stiles shouts before he’s even through the doorway.

Scott looks at him, not missing a beat in the pattern of his sit ups, but he holds eye contact waiting for Stiles to clarify.

“Since Derek is still in the hospital, Erica, Jackson, and Boyd aren’t able to go on.”

Scott rolls his eyes, still pacing his breathing as he maintained the count of his sit ups.

“That’s not the idea, Scott, have more faith in me, okay?” Stiles rolls his eyes in return. “I think we should have them on the stage with us. Like Boyd can play drums next to you or something, and Erica can play the bass even though she normally plays guitar, but she knows how to play the bass too, I think she can handle it, and Jackson can play with Lydia and they can decide who’s going to play what. I don’t know how it’ll work, obviously, but I think they should still get stage time, and we could all rock out a little harder tonight. A little louder. Ya know?” Stiles finishes quietly, not knowing how to explain, but knowing he needs the deafening sound of drums, and bass, and everything. He isn’t even sure if this is possible, but he has to try.

Scott finally stops, resting his elbows on his knees and wiping a towel across his face. “Let’s see what everyone else thinks.”

They went one by one, and everyone thought it was a good idea. They went through their songs and found all the ones that they thought they could play, and created a whole new set list. There was only about five that _Were!_ thought they could play, so they saved them all for the end of the show.

It was loud.

Oh so very fucking loud.

It was fucking amazing!

Stiles came off stage feeling more relaxed than he had in awhile, but when they made it back to the bus, _without Derek_ , Stiles couldn’t block out reality any longer.

According to Allison, Derek would be back by the time the bus got back on the road that night. Stiles trusted her and got ready to go out.

They were in a small town and Finstock hired some extra security detail so that they could go to a local bar and let off some steam. It was a small bar, only about twenty patrons there, all well past buzzed. No one seemed to care they were there, either too drunk to realize who they were or weren’t part of their fan base. It was a country town and both of their bands were very pointedly _not_ country.

They lined up about twenty-five shots of tequila and threw them back as quickly as they all could.

Lydia achieved a buzz and quickly made it out to the small wooden dance floor, she found a dancing partner, stole his cowboy hat, and let him teach her a few line dances at her request.

Jackson threw himself with Scott and Boyd over to the mechanical bull, all of them trying to out do the other. Stiles sat at the bar throwing more and more shots down his throat as he watched them all get thrown off the bull one after another. None of them lasted more than a second or two. It was hilarious.

Erica remained seated a stool down from Stiles, maintaining sobriety better than Stiles, and scrutinizing every detail of Stiles face.

Stiles did his best to ignore her.

After about a half hour, she scoots closer to him to finally broach what has been bothering her.

“I don’t trust you.” She says, palm flat on the counter in front of him to draw his attention.

When he flips his head in her direction, he feels the room spin around him. “Scuse me?”

She squints at him. “There’s something you aren’t telling us. You act like everything is fucking rainbows and unicorns, but there’s something dark in there.” She pokes his chest hard and Stiles sways with the force.

“So does everyone else…” Stiles deflects. He’s noticed the way Erica looks at him when he loses his composure, opening the window into his battered, barely held together, heart.

“Derek’s been worried about you too, we all are. You need to talk about whatever happened to you, or whatever you’re afraid of, because one day you’re going to fucking snap.” She snaps her fingers for emphasis.

Stiles rolls his eyes, trying to act like nothing's wrong. “I’m not gonna snap, there’s nothing to talk about.” He silently reprimands himself for not having more control over himself, if he was a better actor then no one would know anything was wrong.

“Liar.”

Stiles huffs at her, raises two fingers at the bar tender, then looks back at her hoping his eyes portray that _no, he is not going to talk to her about anything._

“I don’t need a drink.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Good to know. I didn’t order you one.”

She points an unimpressed eye at him.

“Look, you don’t get to judge me okay?” Stiles throws the shots back holding another two fingers up. “If I have to sit her and be interrogated by someone I only met six months ago, I certainly don’t have to do it sober.”

“You’re definitely not sober.” She scoffs.

Stiles knows he’s drunk. Should probably stop ordering drinks, but everytime he thinks about cutting himself off he thinks about how Derek is still in the hospital, and not on the bus waiting for him. Stiles throws another shot back trying to smoothe over his worry. He won’t be okay until Derek is in his bunk under Stiles’.

They sit in silence for awhile, Erica not letting up her scrutiny.

“Something happened to someone close to you.”

It’s not a question, so Stiles doesn’t answer, he just keeps his eyes on the mirror in front of him. He takes in his reflection. His hair has fallen over his eyes, greasy, and heavy. He’s got dark circles under his glassy eyes. His cheeks are sallow, a low frown hanging on his face.

He hasn’t seen himself look this bad since his addiction.

Stiles freezes with a shot halfway to his mouth, considering stopping again.

“Whatever happened to you, don’t project it onto Derek.”

And there’s that fucking name again. Stiles throws the shot back, feeling the burn fog his brain even more.

“He really cares about you, but I am not going to sit by and let you ruin him because you can’t let go of your ex, or whatever happened to you. Derek is a good guy, and he cares about you, but he’s not the person in your past and you don’t get to treat him like he is.”

Stiles busts out laughing. It’s a loud and ugly sound. If only Erica knew. He knows that Erica is just trying to help her friend, she doesn’t want him to end up in a bad relationship because the other guy has too much baggage to fit in a double wide trailer.

Stiles laughs louder, pushing himself off his stool to head outside for a smoke, before he looks Erica in the eye and says something stupid like, _‘Yea actually, he is. Literally. He is the guy who broke my heart, and I was and still am too much of a coward to tell him anything.’_ Or something more like, ‘ _You don’t know anything about me, mind your own fucking business and go blow your boyfriend.’_

Stiles knows he’d be lashing out. He’s far too drunk, and still not quite enough.

Luckily, Erica doesn’t follow him outside, and he’s allowed a moment to smoke in private with only the security guard standing beside him. Once he’s done, he squares his shoulders and heads in to order another handful of shots.

Stiles has no idea how he gets back to the bus and in his bunk without dying of alcohol poisoning.

* * *

 

Everyone is asleep when Derek gets back to the bus that night, and he’s beyond thankful. The last thing he needed after his miserable stay at the hospital was more attention. He strips off his clothes and climbs into his bunk. The bus begins moving shortly after, and Derek listens to the hum of the engine as he starts to drift off to sleep.

He’s fine. His scans came back with no sign of swelling, or internal bleeding. His brain activity was the same as before, and one doctor said the results were better than the last one from the year before.

He’s thinking about Stiles again and how he reacted, wishing he had more information, that Stiles trusted him enough to tell him what had happened in his past. Derek wants to help him, whatever that might entail.

Thirty minutes later and sleep still won’t come.

Derek opens his phone and returns a few texts, then hears a whimper above him. At first he thinks he imagined it, but it comes again and again. He tunes in closer and hears rough breathing separating the whimpers.

He doesn’t hesitate to climb out of his bunk and pull Stiles curtain back. He can see the tears glistening from the low glow of the street lights, and the small pool of tears collecting in the corner of Stiles’ eye and nose.

“Stiles?” Derek whispers, reaching a hand out to wipe the tears away.

Stiles presses his face up into Derek’s palm, a shaky breath signalling he’s awake. “Derek?”

Derek can smell the stench of tequila, and sweat roll off the bunk.

Stiles opens his eyes a few millimeters, and pulls Derek by the arm as he scoots back. “You’re back. I was so worried. Come here. I need you.” Stiles pulls harder.

Derek takes a moment to wonder if that’s the best thing to do, maybe he should wake up Scott or Lydia, they might be better equipped for this, especially since they know what Stiles is going through. He climbs in through, wanting to comfort Stiles himself, wanting Stiles to trust him.

Stiles immediately crowds against Derek’s chest, tears moistening his skin. “You can’t leave me.” Stiles hiccups. “Not again. I won’t survive this time. Not again.”

Derek isn’t sure what is running through Stiles’ mind, but if all he needs is Derek to stay close, that is exactly what he is going to do. Derek lifts his arm behind Stiles and rubs circles across his lower back. “I’m not going anywhere, Stiles. I’m here. Sleep, it’s okay.”

Stiles whimpers again, his hand sliding up to curl around Derek’s neck, scratching at his three day beard. Stiles rubs his face against Derek’s chest hair, his scalp scratching against the rough hair under Derek’s chin.

Derek feels Stiles breathing escalate, his face twisting to bury his nose in Derek’s chest, deep breaths trying to steady him. Derek keeps rubbing at the tension in Stiles’ neck and shoulders with one hand.

Stiles starts kissing his chest, working his way up to Derek’s neck.

Derek doesn’t stop him.

The focus on his neck goes straight to his center, and Derek does his best not to acknowledge it. This was not the right time for that.

Stiles works his way up Derek’s jaw then to his lips.

Derek opens for him instantly.

Stiles sucks at Derek’s bottom lip with desperation, and traces every tooth in his mouth with his tongue, like he was literally trying to climb inside Derek and live there.

Derek holds him close, wishing he could protect Stiles from his past.

“Derek, you have to be more careful.” Stiles whispers, against his cheek, tears falling onto Derek’s face. “I can’t go through that again.”

Derek finds his lips and reassures Stiles the best he can that he will be careful, and that he will be okay. He decides that yes, something happened to Stiles’ ex and he was hospitalized somehow.

A half hour later, Stiles finally relaxes, either comforted by Derek’s steady stream of reassurance or exhaustion. Stiles nestles in against Derek’s chest with his arm draped across him.

Derek pulls the curtain closed all the way, and settles his nose in Stiles hair, and finds sleep quickly.

* * *

 

Stiles wakes up to Derek running his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, something far too familiar for Stiles swollen brain, but welcomed none the less. Stiles breathes out heavily against Derek’s chest as he snuggles closer, something he didn’t think he would ever get to do again.

Since the tour began Stiles has tried to keep his distance and let Derek further their relationship at his own pace. Much like before, except it’s not Kate stopping them this time, it’s Stiles secret. Stiles knows he can’t let anything big happen, because he refuses to lure Derek into his pants without the truth completely laid before them, but kissing and cuddling is harmless, right?

Stiles stops his thought there, before he falls into another sticky pit of turmoil.

Stiles traces Derek’s abdomen to signal he’s awake. “How’s your head?”

Derek’s fingers stall for a second, then resume where he left off. “Good. How’s yours?”

Stiles can hear the smile in Derek’s stupid, perfect face, and groans at it. “I feel like my brain is trying to force its way through my eyes sockets. Any second now it will start leaking out of my ears.”

Derek laughs and shifts his hand over to Stiles’ temple, and begins a slow circular rub.

Stiles’ groan bounces off the window behind him, if there is one thing anyone knows about him, it’s his lack of control when he’s on the receiving end of any sort of massage.

“How much did you drink last night?” Derek asks.

“Too much.” Stiles answers, because it’s the truth.

Stiles thinks back on his time with Derek. When he was with Derek before they rarely had hangovers, because they never drank to excess. Sure they would drink together most nights, but it was more of a social thing. Derek drank because it was available, and Stiles drank a beer or two every night to help loosen the muscles from the exhausting string of days. Once he and Derek became a thing they both stopped drinking as much, finding something new to take its place.

“Because you were upset.” Derek says.

Stiles sighs, not wanting to talk about it, but knowing he couldn’t push Derek away if he wanted to. “Yea.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

The sound of Derek’s forced breath through his nose, pains Stiles. He just can’t talk about it. Not yet. Not here. Not like this. Not when his brain is trying to escape his skull. Not while they are trapped in a small bunk on a moving bus. Not where anyone can over hear Derek yell at Stiles for his lies. Or worse, where they can hear Derek tell Stiles that they will never be together again.

Again, Stiles stops that thought too before he falls into a vat of insurmountable turmoil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--Dang it Derek! Stop asking questions!
> 
> *slaps hands on table*  
> Alright, thank you all for your patience in getting this chapter out. Things have been incredibly hectic the last few weeks. If you remember from my last Authors note, I mentioned that my bathroom flooded and that had been a hell week already. Well, I just had the tub, toilet, and walls replaced because God, I do not wanna go through that mess again. 
> 
> Now I will have you know, I only have the one bathroom, so i went a weekend having to run to the gas station or somewhere to pee, with men coming in and out of my house, and I ended up smelling like roadkill because I couldn't fucking bathe. ugh. Anyway, after everything was installed, I had to Spackle the drywall, prime the walls, paint, repaint my shelves (that are off the walls and I have to call the guys back to put back up), paint the base boards, put new ones on, tile the floor, caulk, and paint the ceiling. It's fucking annoying. At this point all I have left is the ceiling, baseboards, and caulking, but I'm freaking exhausted. I want to die. 
> 
> That said, the next chapter might not be done for another week or so, considering what all I have ahead of me with the above, work, helping a friend move, and shit. Shit everywhere.
> 
> Anywho! Thank you for reading! You all are da true MVP's.
> 
> Luh ya, cuties!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	10. Doc, there's a hole where something was.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets, so many secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [FrenchCurlyFry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchCurlyFry/pseuds/FrenchCurlyFry) I didn't forget about you! Sexy duet coming right up!
> 
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

“[I thought of angels](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJqL-UHQuP8) _choking on their halos, get them drunk on rose water. See how dirty I can get them, pulling out their fragile teeth, and clip their tiny wings._ ” Stiles does the best he can to keep his voice steady, the strain remains evident in the sound.

The concert so far has taken everything out of him, because he drank and smoked far too much the other day after Derek’s stay at the hospital, and his body hasn’t quite perked back up yet. He powers through the best he can. For the fans.

“ _Anything you say can and will be held against you. So only say my name, it will be held against you._ ” Stiles voice cracks, but he tries to keep going. He can’t remember why he ever wrote this song, all he can think of is how badly he needs a break, or some water - God, does water sound like the answer to his prayers right now. He clenches his eyes shut calling on any deity to bring the inflammation in his throat down, only to look up when he hears a familiar voice he wasn’t expecting.

“ _Anything you say can and will be held against you, so only say my name!_ ”

Derek.

The sight of Derek joining him on stage, completely comfortable under the harsh stage lights compared to how tense he had started out, takes Stiles’ breath away.

Stiles finds a new burst of energy, remembering exactly why he wrote this song. His voice wanting to be heard belts out the words he had written for the man on stage with him. “ _If heaven's grief brings hell's rain, then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday!_ ”

Derek echoes softly. “ _I know I'm bad news._ ” His eyes only on Stiles.

Stiles blanches, not realizing that Derek had paid so much attention to the song in the last few months. “ _For just one yesterday_.” He’s frozen to the spot, unable to move. Reality just got a little too real.

Derek echoes again, smiling shyly at Stiles, picking up on his sudden realization. “ _I saved it all for you._ ”

Stiles can feel the fire in his blood, pulsing brightly under the soft gaze of the subject of his song, hell all of his songs. “ _Oh, I want to teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way_ .” Stiles saunters toward Derek, finally able to instruct his feet to move again. “ _Still I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday!”_

“ _I know I'm bad news._ ” Derek shrugs, getting into character, as he sings along with Lydia.

“ _For just one yesterday_.” Stiles has sang this song, at least thirty times in the last two months, but never has he felt it the way he does now.

“ _I saved it all for you_.” Derek points at him good naturedly.

“ _For just one-_ ” Stiles’ eyes water with the need to cough.

Derek resumes the line, picking up on Stiles struggle. “ _-yesterday_.”

Stiles readies himself to continue after he turns away to cough something fierce, but then one look at Derek tells him that he’s ready to take over if Stiles needs it.

Stiles needs it.

His throat hurts, and not only with the physical strain, but the welling up emotions ripping their way through him. He wasn’t prepared for this.

Derek resumes easily, finally turning his focus from Stiles and looking toward the audience. “ _Letting people down is my thing, baby. Find yourself a new gig, this town ain't big enough for two of us._ ”

Stiles heart skips a beat with how easily Derek sings _his_ words, _his_ melody, _his_ song that he _wrote for Derek._

 _“I don't have the right name, or the right looks, but I have twice the heart._ ” Derek looks back at Stiles and Stiles does his best to sing the chorus again, this time with Derek.

“ _Anything you say can and will be held against you. So only say my name, it will be held against you.”_

Derek’s eyes are heated, like he’s daring Stiles to do something, as always. Derek has been very forward with his interest, but Stiles can’t allow himself to take advantage without Derek knowing everything. It would be the absolute worst thing he could do to Derek, and Derek deserves better than that.

“ _Anything you say can and will be held against you. So only say my name!_ ” They sing together at the top of their lungs and it’s the best sound Stiles has ever heard. He throws his head back with the power of it.

Derek sings the chorus alone this time as Stiles smoothes out his throat with the nearest bottle of water. Taking Derek in from behind, his relazed shoulders, legs drifting easily to the music like he knows every chord by heart. How Stiles wrote this song wishing for another chance with Derek and now fucking had it.

“ _If heaven's grief brings hell's rain, then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday._ ” Derek sings easy, walking to stand behind Stiles.

Stiles giggles, singing the line Lydia normally sang, who is uncharacteristically quiet. “ _I know I'm bad news.”_

“ _For just one yesterday._ ” Derek quirks an eyebrow, taunting.

Stiles briefly worries about what will happen if they are too flirty, what would the label think? But then he realizes - _DUH -_ He’s one hundred percent open about his sexuality now, the label can’t say shit, and the fans already know. Derek already sort of came out on Kelly’s show back during the press tour, and Derek doesn’t have any ‘No-no’s’ in his contract because Stiles holds the fucking contract, and he would never do something like that.

Stiles takes a few steps back and leans against Derek. “ _I saved it all for you._ ” He’s never meant the words as much as he did now.

Derek brings his free arm around Stiles’ middle. “ _I want to teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way.”_

Stiles is on cloud fucking nine. It seems not one, not two, but at least three deity’s answered his silent prayer earlier.

Derek continues, swaying Stiles by his hips behind him. “ _Still I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.”_

Stiles hopes that if Derek remembered his past, that he would mean the words coming out of his mouth at this very moment. Stiles dances away, teasing Derek, and playing it up for the audience. Although, he might just be high on life. Who’s to tell. _“I know I'm bad news_.”

“ _For just one yesterday._ ” Derek grins mischievously, following Stiles across the stage by impulse.

“ _I saved it all for you._ ” Stiles smiles brightly at Derek, let the fans think what they want. They’ll never guess the truth.

“ _For just one yesterday!_ ” Derek sings quietly looking at Stiles, asking silently if he needs to take the bridge too.

Stiles approaches him with a slight shake of his head. He needs to sing this himself. _“If I spilled my guts._ ” Stiles takes a deep breath, holding eye contact with Derek. “ _The world would never look at you the same way.”_

This is what Lydia normally sang, her way of telling the world that she knew something, something that needed to be shared. It wasn’t meant to hurt Stiles, she genuinely believed that if everyone knew about Derek, that everything would turn around for him. Instead of seeing him as an ex drug addict, they would see him for what he was: _a broken heart_.

“ _And now I'm here to give you all my love_ .” All of it. Every ounce was Derek’s. “ _So I can watch your face as I take it all away, away, away, ay ay ay._ ” The fear of Derek leaving the minute he discovered his lies, brings tears to Stiles’ eyes and he has to close them and release the tension toward the ceiling.

Derek sees the pain on Stiles’ face and pulls him over by the shirt, pressing their foreheads together, and holding his mic between them for them to sing together, mistaking Stiles pain for physical, thinking he needed help vocally. “ _If heaven's grief brings hell's rain, then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.”_

Stiles voice goes in and out every other word, Derek carrying him through. “ _I know I'm bad news.”_ Stiles sings as Derek sings his next line.

“ _For just one yesterday.”_

“ _I saved it all for you._ ” Stiles sighs, holding Derek’s wrist where is hangs from the microphone.

“ _I want to teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way._ ” Derek sings alone.

Stiles sings one last time at the top of his lungs meaning every single word. “ _Still I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.”_

Derek goes back to echoing, his eyes bleeding affection. “ _I know I'm bad news._ ”

Stiles can imagine the way Derek is connecting to the song, especially at these words. Derek always felt like a burden. He wasn’t though, he was Stiles sun and stars. His world. His salvation. _“For just one yesterday!”_ His yesterday. His today. His tomorrow. His _forever and always._

_“I saved it all for you.”_

“ _For just one yesterday…_ ” Stiles has to resist the urge to kiss Derek right then and there in front of thousands of fans.

The lights go out just in time before Derek pushes Stiles backwards off the stage, and kisses him more passionately than they have in weeks. Stiles melts into him and doesn’t fight it. He lets himself imagine that Derek remembers everything, that nothing happened, that they sang the song together and that Derek meant every word he just sang on stage.

The fans can’t see, sure, but everyone else can, and Stiles couldn’t care less.

* * *

 

That night after the show Derek goes back to the bus with Stiles instead of going out with everyone after for some drinks and loud music. Stiles still needs rest and Derek isn’t ready to leave his side after their impromptu duet.

Derek had felt a connection to the song from the first time he heard it. He would give anything to get his memories back, even if they were nothing to be proud of, he just wants to know. The song covers a lot for him, but right now, after seeing how passionate Stiles had gotten, all he can do is wonder where the song came from within Stiles’ past.

Derek had never been up close and personal for the performance before and never realized just how intense the song was. Stiles looked desperate. Desperate to go back to something before. Believing himself to be a curse, bad news, but wanting another chance anyway.

If only Derek could get Stiles to open up.

They strip off their layers of clothes and Stiles climbs into his bunk, scooting back leaving a space for Derek to join him. After that night when Derek crawled into the bunk with him a few nights ago after Stiles’ nightmare, they have slept together each night since. They don’t talk, not really, they just curl up against each other and find sleep.

Tonight isn’t any different. Stiles curls up on top of Derek, and tucks his toes under Derek’s calves.

“You’re toes are freezing!” Derek exclaims within their small space.

Stiles giggles, “Yea, well maybe that’s because you always steal all the covers.”

Derek doesn’t have a retort to that, he knows he’s notorious for stealing blankets and rolling himself into a burrito throughout the night. He can remember all the way back to when he was just a kid and his mom and dad finally kicked him out of their bed because he couldn’t share.

They don’t say anything else for awhile, and just when Derek thinks he’s going to fall asleep Stiles whispers across his chest.

“Thanks for helping me out tonight.”

“Anytime.” Derek murmurs, wrapping his arm around Stiles tighter as they both let sleep take them.

* * *

 

_Derek opens his eyes to golden light streaming in through a large balcony door, and heavy weight covering his entire torso, and most of his thigh._

_“You’re an octopus. Why do you do this?” Derek asks, running his fingers through the man’s hair._

_The man doesn’t respond immediately, still clinging to sleep (and Derek), and mumbles a response._

_“Was that english?” Derek asks, tugging slightly on the hair between his fingers._

_“Yes.” The man retorts petulantly. “Now shush. Sleepy times are still happening.” Long fingers find Derek’s mouth and sloppily try to cover it._

_Derek laughs, “You’re unbelieveable.”_

_The guy tightens his grip around Derek, pulling himself more on top of him to completely cover him. “I don’ wanna hear it. ‘Til you can learn to share the blankets, this is happening. I’ll steal all yer body heat.”_

_Derek sighs, still smiling. “Fine, you win.”_

_The faceless man lifts his head, and Derek knows he’s smiling, “I always win. Get used to it.” Then he lays his head back down and they remain tangled together for another half hour._

* * *

 

They make it to the next town a day before their next show, so they get to stay in a hotel for the night. When they are unloading the bus with the bags they think they will need, Allison walks over with her phone held in front of her face. “One of the rooms they had booked for us has a massive leak in the bathroom and isn’t available. They said they can give us another room if we want, or they will comp one of our rooms.”

This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, usually Stiles ends up sharing a room with Isaac but this time Stiles looks toward Derek. Derek nods easily answering his unspoken question. Wasn’t even a question, really. Derek would take every opportunity to be close to Stiles.

“Derek and I can share a room. I’ll be doing interviews most of the day anyway, so it’s not a problem.” Stiles says casually.

Erica scoffs, “Yea, it’s not like you guys haven’t been sleeping together all week anyway.”

The way she says it implies much more than what is actually happening and Derek sees Stiles blush, but there’s a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Derek doesn’t share the amused smirk because, no, they aren’t doing anything, and he wants to - Badly.

Lydia shoves Erica from the side. “You don’t have any room to talk, considering we can _hear_ you and Boyd every night on the bus.”

“Hell yea, you can!” Erica cheers, winking at her boyfriend.

Derek rolls his eyes and picks up a bag from Stiles feet and heads toward the entrance of the hotel. Sure, Stiles was more than capable of carrying his own bags, but Derek wants to help out as much as he can. Stiles has done so much for them. He’s not courting him or anything, that would be ridiculous.

They all go their separate ways after Allison hands out the key cards, and the second Stiles and Derek are in their room, Stiles rambles on about how he has to leave in a few minutes so he’s going to shower real quick and then be out of his hair.

Derek wants to argue and point out that Stiles isn’t a bother, but Stiles is already in the bathroom with the door shut and the shower turns on quickly after. Derek sets their bags over by the dresser and unloads his and Stiles’ bags into the two top drawers. Then he picks up the sack of dirty laundry he carried in for Stiles, and his as well, and heads out to use the hotel’s laundry room while he has the opportunity.

The band never makes time to do laundry, he’s finding most of them throw bags of dirty clothes in the trailer and just buy more as they go. Derek can’t fathom spending that much money on clothes when you could take a few hours a week to run a few loads through the wash.

He might even be more motivated by the fact that Stiles finds immense pleasure in wearing his favorite red hoodie fresh out of the wash.

When he gets back to the room a few hours later he turns on the TV to the local news station to see if _Fallout’s_ interview has aired yet. It’s already on and Derek turns up the volume to listen closer.

Stiles is dressed in a soft green shirt, and tight blue jeans (the only clean clothes he had left, Derek notes). Lydia is wearing a purple pencil skirt, and a white tank top (newly bought on line and mailed to the hotel ahead of time). Scott is in khaki shorts, and a logo tee (neither washed). Isaac is wearing a long sleeve black shirt, and loose fitted pants (Derek isn’t sure on that one). They all look relaxed and freshly showered, smiling wide for the interviewer.

“I’m sure you guys are asked this all the time, but we all know there is more about you guys that the fans don’t already know.” The young man prompts. “Would you mind sharing with us something no one knows about one of your band mates?”

Stiles starts laughing and looks at the others, choosing his victim. “Lydia.” He starts and she dares him to try her with a stern look. He’s unaffected and laughs as he turns back toward the interviewer. “Lydia is the clumsiest person you'll ever meet.”

Lydia’s jaw drops to the floor. “Stop it. I am not.”

The interviewer smiles wickedly, “You’re not?”

Scott picks up, “Oh no, she is. She once tripped while _sitting down!”_

“Guys!” Lydia cries, covering her swiftly reddening face.

The interviewer giggles, “Okay, this I have to hear.”

“Ugh, fine. I was sitting in this really unstable chair, like it rocked back and forth constantly. And I was wearing that long lace dress from the AMA’s last year and I went to kick the dress out of the way, and my heel caught one of the chair legs, which rocked the chair forward really fast and I lost my balance, I tried to get my footing but only tangled myself further up in my dress and ended up on my knees in front of the chair.” Lydia finishes and crosses her arms, pouting at the group of laughing boys around her. She locks eyes with Isaac who’s in tears from laughing so hard. “You guys wanna play hard ball? Fine. Isaac spends more time on his hair than I do. And not just the hair on his head.”

Isaac gapes at her.

Silence falls among them.

Scott high fives Lydia.

Isaac regains his composure and turns the attention to Scott. “Well at least I don’t pulverize someone when they eat the last HoHo.” He points. “Scott.”

Scott gives a dopey smile, feigning innocence. “Hoho’s are the best, bro. They make you do stupid things.”

They all settle down and Stiles fidgets, knowing he’s next, already putting the pieces together that Scott (his best friend with the most dirt on him) will reveal something about him.

Scott locks his eyes with Stiles, unreadable, Stiles almost looks panicked, but then finally he makes his declaration. “Stiles will always walk through fire if it means he can spare someone even a second of pain.”

Stiles’ mouth falls open in shock, not expecting something so heart felt. Then he pulls a twisted face, “Awe… broooo!” Then he lunges over Lydia and hugs his best friend.

They clap each other on the back a few times, and the interviewer wraps up the segment and they go to commercial break.

* * *

 

Derek sits alone in his hotel room for hours, bored, wishing Stiles was back so they could drink, talk, smoke, hangout, whatever! He’s gotten so used to always being around Stiles that every second that he’s away is uncomfortable. He pulls out his phone and decides to look up _Fallout Shelter’s_ youtube channel.

He clicks one of the most popular covers. _Drown_ by _Bring me the Horizon._

Stiles is sitting alone in front of a computer with an acoustic guitar in his lap. He’s wearing a basic black tee, and his hair's a mess, like he hasn’t washed his hair in a few days. Derek can’t judge though because now that he has experienced life on the road he knows how hard it is to keep up hygiene.

Stiles has deep circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept in days, and there isn’t any joy in his face. He intros the video as simply as possible, just naming the song he’s covering. No reason why. No explanation as to why he’s alone. Nothing. Just the name of the song and the original artist.

The song starts slow, and Stiles voice is quiet. “[What doesn't kill you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGOjkvRRNwI) _makes you wish you were dead. Got a hole in my soul, growing deeper and deeper. And I can't take-_ ” Stiles squints his eyes closed, singing rough, and loud suddenly. “ _-one more moment of this silence! The loneliness is haunting me! And the weight of the world's getting harder to hold up!_ ”

Derek has seen Stiles upset, but never this upset, and even though this video was posted years ago he can’t help but cringe with the force of the emotion.

Stiles grows quiet again, his shoulders sagging. “ _It comes in waves, I close my eyes. Hold my breath and let it bury me._ ” Stiles grows desperate again, his neck straining with the force of his words. “ _I'm not okay, and it's not alright. Won't you drag the lake and bring me home again?_ ”

He stares up above the camera, as though asking for answers, his arm not missing a single strum. “ _Who will fix me now? Dive in when I'm down? Save me from myself, don't let me drown. Who will make me fight? Drag me out alive? Save me from myself, don't let me drown._ ”

Derek pauses the video. He looks around instinctively searching for Stiles, to comfort him somehow. He knows something bad happened to Stiles’ ex, but he doesn’t know any of the details. If this song means what he thinks, Stiles didn’t get over it too well judging by his appearance, and how heartbroken he sounds singing the words. This isn’t just any cover. This is more important, like Stiles needed to sing this, needed to express his pain. Derek wonders if the cause of his pain ever got a chance to see this video. He can’t imagine them seeing this and not caring about what they had done to him.

Derek resumes the video after taking a steadying breath.

Stiles is quiet again, his face slack and void of emotion. “ _What doesn't destroy you, leaves you broken instead. Got a hole in my soul growing deeper and deeper. And I can't take-_ ” He shouts the words again, almost angry. “ _-One more moment of this silence! The loneliness is haunting me! And the weight of the world's getting harder to hold up!”_

 _“It comes in waves, I close my eyes. Hold my breath and let it bury me.”_ He shouts, voice cracking. _“I'm not okay, and it's not alright! Won't you drag the lake and bring me home again?”_ He stops strumming and bangs on the body of his guitar a few times, before singing without the guitar, eyes closed and tears dusting his lashes.

 _“Who will fix me now? Dive in when I'm down? Save me from myself, don't let me drown.”_ He repeats the line, lost in the song, pain radiating.

He grows quiet, looking below the camera, face slack, exhausted.

Lost.

_“'Cause you know that I can't do this on my own. 'Cause you know that I can't do this on my own. 'Cause you know that I can't do this on my own.”_

He summons all of his energy one last time and sings the last few words, no more anger, only desperation. _“Who will fix me now? Dive in when I'm down? Save me from myself, don't let me drown.”_

Tears begin to fall and the video ends.

Derek sits in silence for a long time torn between hunting this person down and giving them a beating for whatever they have done, and wanting to beat Stiles for not telling him, it’s not like Derek hasn’t asked. Stiles always avoids the subject and says it doesn’t matter, nothing, or that he’ll tell him when he’s ready.

Stiles is a good person, he doesn’t deserve this heartbreak. Derek can’t imagine someone ever wanting to leave him. Hell, Derek is dying just to be with him, but he knows that until they have the dreaded exes talk, all they are doing is messing around.

You can’t build a relationship on secrets.

It’s not like Derek has been too open either, truth be told he’s using Stiles secrecy to avoid talking about his own history. He’s still not even sure if Stiles knows about his memory loss.

Derek starts googling Stiles to see if he can find anything about his relationship history. Incredibly, he finds little to nothing, just a lot of speculation. He decides that Stiles only came out a few years ago, so that could have something to do with the lack of information. Then he comes across some pictures of Danny walking Stiles out of clubs a few years back. In some of the photos Stiles is kissing his neck, smiling wide, pulling at Danny’s clothes, but Stiles looks wrecked. He doesn’t look much better than the video he just watched.

Derek briefly wonders if Danny is the culprit, but has to remind himself that he has met him. Danny is a good guy, everyone loves him, and Stiles did tell him they had a beneficial relationship. Derek decides that the photos are just of a good friend helping a friend who has had a little too much to drink.

* * *

 

Derek hears them coming down the hall long before his door pushes open. It’s late, and they obviously hit a bar with a few crew members after their string of interviews (per the usual). Derek puts his crossword puzzle down when Stiles stumbles in.

“Oh!” Stiles freezes, well as much as he can, and ends up swaying before resting his elbow against the wall. “Did I wake you?”

Derek shakes his head, distracted by the cant of Stiles hips. “No, I was just finishing up a crossword.”

Stiles eyes swim around until he locates the daily newspaper folded neatly next to Derek’s waist, and then a small smile disappears as quickly as it arose.

Derek thinks about getting up and giving Stiles a hug, or kiss, but he can’t stop thinking about the video and how important it is for Stiles to let him in. He knows he can’t keep pursuing a relationship with Stiles without knowing. It wouldn’t be healthy. It could only end in disaster. If he thought it was only a simple break up, he wouldn’t let it bother him too much, but this was something _more._

Stiles mixes him a screwdriver, turns on the discovery channel to whatever documentary is playing, and pulls out his guitar across the room.

It’s the little things like this that reassure Derek that Stiles does care about him. He’s not just being nice, or supportive during the shows, or even taking advantage of Derek and initiating heated encounters. They are in the safety of a hotel room and Stiles has made Derek his favorite drink, which is always made with the perfect ratio, and turned on a documentary which is like a feast to Derek’s brain. There is a list of things that Stiles just _does_ that Derek still hasn’t been able to pinpoint exactly how and when Stiles figured them out.

Eventually, Stiles puts down the guitar and turns to his notebook to write down the few lines of lyrics before they are forgotten. Derek picks up his own guitar wanting to try a few chords for something he’s had running in his brain for a few weeks.

It’s rough at first, nothing really fitting the words in his head, but he keeps trying. He’s never been a songwriter, but he’s seen everyone work on different things on the bus throughout the tour and he’s trying his best to learn the process, seeing as this is his career now.

Stiles grabs another beer before sitting back down across the room.

Derek mumbles the words, looking for a melody. He notices Stiles turn to attention across the room, and Derek hopes that means he’s doing something right and continues. “[Memories,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SiclbWPLIBo) _where’d you go? You were all I’ve ever known. How I wish for yesterday, and how I let it fade away._ ”

Derek repeats the chords a few more times, trying to commit them to memory, and make sure they sound good, before he looks up.

Stiles is staring at him, and drops his eyes to the guitar in Derek’s lap when they make eye contact. He’s chewing on his lip in thought, and when he doesn’t say what’s on his mind Derek raises an eyebrow in question.

Stiles clears his throat. “You’ve uh, been working on this for a week or so right?”

Derek nods, he hadn’t realized he had hummed the words at any point, but Stiles would notice considering their constant interaction.

“Was it the Hospital?” Stiles scratches his chin. “I mean, like, did it bring up what happened?”

“What happened?” Derek asks quicker than he can stop himself. He could have swore he never told Stiles. If he knows, then everything Derek believes is wrong.

Stiles blanches, “Sorry, we don’t have to talk about it.” He strums his guitar clumsily and clears his throat with a shake of his head. “It’s none of my business.”

Derek doesn’t want Stiles to shut down, it’s not that he doesn’t want him to know, he just didn’t know he _knew_. “No, it’s okay… I just didn’t know you knew.”

Stiles meets his eyes for a long moment before nodding once.

“How?” Derek asks quietly.

Stiles scratches his neck, and looks down at his guitar to adjust a few strings when he answers. “I think I read it online somewhere.” He flings a stray finger for emphasis. “Fans have no sense of privacy.”

Derek nods, accepting the answer, not wanting to believe that Stiles would lie to him. He can’t fight off the feeling though, that if that information were out there he would have been asked about it numerous times during interviews.

They grow quiet for a few minutes and Derek finally realizes it’s because Stiles is waiting for an answer to his earlier question, but not wanting to push if Derek doesn’t want to talk about it. But he does, because if he talks about his secrets then maybe Stiles will talk about his, and then maybe this little fling they have going could finally grow a little.

“Yea, it was the hospital, sort of.” Derek clears his throat as Stiles lifts his head to listen. “But it doesn’t take a trip to a hospital to trigger me… I think about it all the time. It’s weird. Thinking about something you can’t really think about?”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asks, when Derek stumbles on his words, unsure how much Stiles knows.

Derek takes a moment to get his thoughts straight. “When you think about things… you think about memories, right? When people are triggered by past trauma it’s usually the memories of the trauma, but for me… it’s not like that. I don’t have a trigger, at least not the one everyone assumes. _Hospitals_. No, it’s more like when someone mentions the years I lost… they don’t ever mean any harm… but when you’re asked to think about something in your past you just do, and when I do, there’s nothing there.” Derek swallows. “It’s just a blank.”

Stiles takes a long swig from his beer and Derek swears he sees some extra moisture in his eyes, but he says nothing of it. He was trying not to get emotional himself, and wasn’t expecting Stiles to. The only people ever this upset were his mom and Laura.

“I don’t know. It’s not a big deal.” Derek tries to soothe both himself and Stiles.

“Hey, no. It’s okay. It is a big deal, and you’re allowed to talk about it and think about it and get sad, mad, or happy!” Stiles gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up, sniffing loudly.

Derek raises an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Happy?”

“Yeaaa!” Stiles grins, “Think about all the embarrassing moments you might have forgotten? If you’re anything like me there are more than enough to keep you awake at night. So ya know, you can sleep like a baby, and I’m over here thinking of all the times I ripped my pants in public, tripped Demi Lovato when she was on her way to get an award, or having my fly down for an entire set of songs! Yea, not pretty, especially with the close attention I get from fans - Seriously! I Still get asked if Demi has forgiven me!”

They laugh for a moment, Derek tangled up in Stiles ramble, but when they settle so does he.

“You make a valid point, but still. If I could, I would take back every second of those two years and you wouldn’t hear me complain.”

Stiles nods before standing up and refilling Derek’s drink, and grabbing another beer for himself.

They don’t talk too much more about it, but Stiles makes a point to help Derek with the song until it’s finished.

* * *

 

The next morning Derek wakes up to Stiles sprawled across him like normal, and he finds comfort in that before falling back asleep. When he wakes up again, he’s alone, it’s a few lonely minutes before he remembers that Stiles has another string of interviews this morning.

He stretches his arm across the bed to retrieve his phone and takes note that the mattress is still warm from Stiles and there’s the smell of shampoo drifting in from the bathroom. Stiles only just left. Derek realizes that Stiles’ absence is what woke him. That fact briefly worries him, that he’s growing attached to something that isn’t his to attach to, but he ignores it quickly.

After retrieving his phone and lying back on his back he checks his notifications. Allison sent out the daily itinerary to everyone and there are already a few grumpy responses from Jackson. It’s the same thing every day, and at this point no one actually believes that Jackson is miffed. At this point it’s all a game. When Jackson gives Allison a hard time, Scott gets defensive, and they argue. Then Stiles steps in to defend his best friend, and they all argue, then Lydia steps in to reign in her boys and Jackson puffs up with pride because this is all a game to him. It all ends when Boyd drags Jackson away in a headlock (Derek and probably everyone’s favorite part). They do this every single day.

Derek rolls his eyes and deletes the email responses from Jackson in his inbox, and opens Allison’s to go ahead and get a head start on the day.

Unfortunately, there is nothing planned. Nothing. Even the show that night was cancelled due to a political riot overnight. Derek regrets deleting Jackson’s emails because maybe they had more information. He responds to the group email showing his acknowledgement.

Not even three minutes later there’s a knock at his door.

When he opens the door he’s not greeted by just one, but all three of his band mates.

“Get dressed loser, we’re going shopping!” Erica greets, pushing right past him into his room.

Boyd follows close behind, and Jackson nods in greeting. Derek shuts the door and follows them in and listens as Erica rattles off the plans for the day. Since the show was cancelled, Erica decided it would be a perfect opportunity to go out on the town. She already arranged for a town car, and got with Allison about it so they would know of any restrictions.

It’s only a matter of minutes before Derek is ready and they all head down to the back lot and load up for their adventure. The duration of their drive is spent with Erica giving Derek odd looks, like she wants to talk about something but is holding back for some reason.

When they are dropped off on the strip Erica claims Derek’s arm and sends the other two boys off on their own. Derek braces himself for a Mama Erica day. She leads them in the opposite direction of Boyd and Jackson.

“So.” She starts conversationally.

Derek raises an eyebrow, “So?”

“You and Stiles?” She looks up at him from the corner of her eye with a lift to her lips.

“Erica.” Derek warns.

She rolls her eyes with a sigh. “Don’t try to shut me down, you know that never works.”

Derek returns the sigh, knowing she’s right.

“Now, dish.” She leads them to a small coffee shop and takes a seat at one of the patio tables.

Derek follows as she raises a finger for the barista and orders for both of them. He falters under her intent stare and shrugs a simple, “He’s nice.”

“Oh my, God, Derek.” She huffs, “You and about half the population already know that. He’s the poster boy for kindness, but he’s different with you.”

“Yea.”

“Why?” She clips.

Derek shrugs because he has no idea.

“Are you guys bangin yet?”

Derek chokes on his cup of coffee that was just set in front of him.

“Seriously? Already?” She clutches imaginary pearls.

“No!” Derek whispers across the table, finally able to breathe again. “We’ve only done what you’ve seen.” He can’t bring himself to say kiss, and cuddle because it sounds dumb out loud, but it’s everything to him right now. “I think he has baggage from a past relationship, and it’s holding him back.”

She nods and relaxes into her chair. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She stirs her coffee finding her words. “I want you to be careful. Try not to grow too attached because he may never tell you, and he doesn’t have to, but for you guys to ever have a healthy relationship, you two have to be honest with each other. Not just about exes, but your accident too.”

“He already knows.” Derek says quickly.

“Wait, how?” Her brows scrunch together.

“He mentioned that he read about the accident online somewhere, and we talked about it. He knows about Kate too, I don’t know how much, but back when I went to sign the other contract with Kate I overheard him in her office fighting with her about it.”

“The contract, or your relationship with her? I’m confused.”

“Both I guess.” Derek shrugs and twists his cup in his hands trying to recall the details. “He was shouting about how it wasn’t fair, ‘So he cheated on you, let it go.’ Then he yelled about puppeteering. So I don’t know. I think he knew her rep with new contracts and when he confronted her about it she might have told him… but again, I don’t know. I just know that he knows I was in a relationship with her, and that I was in the accident.”

Erica nods, processing the new information. “1. You never told me that part, and that explains a lot. And 2. You two still have a lot to talk about there. You need to know exactly what he doesn’t know, but again, you don’t have to. You both just need to be completely honest about your histories before you can start something.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.” Derek rolls his eyes and finishes his coffee.

They pay and toss their cups before heading down the strip to a store of Erica’s choosing when she slips something between them.

“I don’t think he’s as nice as everyone thinks.”

When Derek doesn’t respond, because as great as Erica is to him, she’s skeptical of everyone she meets, she continues.

“The other night, when you were in the hospital, he got really drunk.”

Derek cuts in. “I know. So?”

“So… I talked to him that night, and he was.... Weird.” She leads them into a store and starts scanning the racks, avoiding eye contact with him. “He was angry, and sarcastic, and rude, and… Derek I just think he has a lot of demons just below the surface. Sure, he’s nice, which he has to be since he’s in the public’s eye, but something’s off…”

Derek sighs, “We all have demons.”

“I know.” She gives him a big smile and squares her shoulders to move past the topic. “I’m just worried about you getting hurt. Come on, let’s go get pedicures!”

Derek lets himself smile with her, and follows her out of the store back to the salon they passed.

While he sits and allows his feet to be handled for his pedicure (because he knows better by now than to fight Erica on anything), he opens his browser on his phone and Google's Stiles again. A frequent pastime as of late.

He reads the first dozen new results and notices something weird. “Sterek?” He muses aloud.

Erica falls into a fit of laughter. “I was wondering how long you would go before you found out.”

Derek raises a pointed eyebrow at her from where he’s sitting at her side.

“Sterek, it’s your ship.” She smiles widely.

“Our ship?”

“It’s like… when you want two people to get together, you are a fan of a relation _ship_ , so you ship them. You take their names and mash them together… So…. Stiles + Derek = Sterek.” She smiles brightly, fluttering her eyelashes like a lovelorn teenager.

Derek cannot process this new information.

“Don’t look at me like that. You asked for it with that duet last night, and all the public flirting… you two asked for this!”

Derek buries his face in his hands, while Erica proceeds to giggle uncontrollably.

They spend the next 20 minutes in silence, and Derek re-evaluates what he knows about Stiles.

He can’t imagine Stiles ever doing anything to intentionally hurt him, especially after his accident on the bus and how Stiles reacted with fierce care. He knows Stiles has excellent PR. He knows that everyone who knows Stiles personally, even his own mother, loves Stiles so he can’t be that bad. He knows that Stiles goes out of his way to take care of his band, and now Derek’s band. He knows that Stiles does little things for everyone to make them comfortable, especially Derek. Like putting documentaries on in the hotel, making his favorite drinks, and picking up daily newspapers so that he can do the daily crosswords.

Stiles isn’t a bad guy.

Now, Derek also knows Stiles has a really bad break up in his past. At this point all he has been able to figure out on his own is that it was bad, there was an accident of some kind involved, and Stiles didn’t take it too well these last few years. This might actually be the best year he’s had yet.

Bottom line, Derek needs more information.

Derek thinks about the Ship. Sterek. He can’t help but smile. He’s not crazy for thinking that he and Stiles have some amazing chemistry, complete strangers are picking up on it and are enthusiastic about it. He googles Sterek to get an idea of how big a deal it might be.

Half an hour later, he’s scrolling through pictures, manipulations of the two of them cuddling, kissing, holding hands, looking at each other. A lot of them are obvious fakes, and a lot are just candids of them walking between the bus and venues. Someone even managed to get a picture of Derek picking up Stiles bag at his feet yesterday to carry into the hotel. There are hundreds of pictures and Derek finds himself saving a few real ones. Then he comes across one where he’s standing at the front of the audience of some show looking up to Stiles who’s flashing some serious heart eyes at where he’s standing.

This picture makes him pause.

He can’t find the edit line, or any indication that it’s a manipulation, and he doesn’t recognize the venue or recall a time he stood at the foot of the stage. He opens the article and tries to gather more information.

_“Last night Fallout Shelter delivered another stellar performance for Dallas at the Gexa Pavillion. We don’t know what exactly put the pep in Stiles Stilinski’s step, but this picture seems-”_

Derek is pulled from the article when his phone rings in his hand, he answers quickly wanting to get back to the article. “This is Derek.”

“Mr. Hale, this is Alice Halbrin with the emergency room of North Center MD in Memphis.” She recites carefully.

Derek’s stomach drops.

“We have your mother with us, she’s okay, but we wanted to let you know of the situation.”

“Is she okay?” Derek blurts.

Erica is drawn from her conversation with the lady at her feet, and looks over to Derek with concern.

“She’s okay.” Alice confirms, then gives him further information. “She was in a car accident a few hours ago, and underwent surgery to repair everything vital. She’s in recovery now, and awake asking for you. Are you able to make it over to see her? We are aware that you are on tour and it may not be possible-”

“I’m on my way.” Derek blurts already pulling his feet from the young woman in front of him and flinging himself out of the chair, almost slipping with the lotion still slathered over his feet. “I’m sorry. Thank you. Please let her know I am on my way.”

He allows the young woman to rub his feet off with a towel as quickly as she can, she sets his shoes in front of him to throw on, picking up on the severity of the situation.

Erica is already on the phone with Allison getting a town car for him. Luckily they haven’t made it too far past Memphis and it’s only about an hour drive with toll roads. Erica slips on paper flip-flops and follows him to the front of the building.

“Do you want me to come with you? Is everything okay? Allison said the driver will pick you up in a few minutes here.” She rushes as fast as she can.

“She’s okay, my mom was in an accident-”

Erica gasps, “Oh, Derek I’m so sorry!”

He pats her shoulder not only to ease her worry, but ground himself. Of all things it had to be an automotive accident. “It’s okay. They said she’s okay, she had surgery and is in recovery asking for me, which has to mean she’s okay - it’s not like.... It’s okay, you can stay. I think I need to do this on my own.” He swallows thickly, trying to focus on the world around him.

She bites her tongue with a nod. “Okay, Der. But if you need anything, you call me, okay?”

Derek gives her a hug, before climbing into the barely parked car when it pulls up in front of him.

The ride to the hospital gives Derek a lot of time to think, mostly he worries about what awaits him in Memphis.

* * *

 

Stiles got the call from Allison just when he was getting in the car to head to another interview with the band. There was little argument when he asked to go see Talia. They threw him in another car and sent him on his way.

Honestly, it surprised everyone including Stiles that he managed to get from point A to point B without falling into a panic. Another loved one was in an accident. He allowed himself to grow attached to Talia, she was his mom now, he couldn’t lose another mother.

Stiles stayed as calm as possible during his ride to the hospital, the only sign of distress being his bleeding cuticles from where he gnawed on them the whole drive. Once to the hospital he didn’t have to argue with the nurses for access because apparently she had already told them to let him in if he showed.

Stiles didn’t waste time in getting to the room.

Talia notices him immediately and throws an arm out to the side reaching for him. “Stiles, baby!”

“Mom…” Stiles breathes as he rushes toward her, relieved to see her all in one piece, and remembering him with clarity. Stiles bites back the flood of tears at his relief.

“Hi, Sunshine. You didn’t have to rush out here to me. I’m fine.” She consoles, running a clumsy hand up his arm.

He looks down to see all the wires sticking out of her, and steadies her hand with his. “How are you feeling? Status report?”

She giggles and rolls her eyes.

Every time Stiles would visit Derek in the hospital (even if only from the hall) it became a running joke to ask for a _status report_. “Just a little accident, some fractures, and a broken femur, and uhh…” She drifts off looking across the room and Stiles entire stomach hits the floor.

“She’s okay!”

Stiles looks up to see Laura on the other side of the bed, he’s not sure how he missed her.

“No…” She gestures to her head. “She’s okay. They just have her on a lot of pain meds. She’s done that a few times.”

Talia looks up at that, “Done what?”

“That.” Laura laughs. “You were giving Stiles a status report and stopped talking in the middle.”

They all laugh, and she reaches for Stiles face so he leans down to give her a kiss on the forehead. “I’m glad you’re okay, mom. Damn near gave me a heart attack.”

“Sweetheart, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.” She taps her head with a lazy finger, “This here is a steel trap, nothing can take away my precious babies.”

Laura opens her mouth to say something and Talia cuts in quick with a sharp poke to Stiles’ side. “Don’t you dare try to pay these medical bills, too! You hear me!?”

Stiles laughs, but before he can respond he hears a relieved sigh when Derek gets his eyes on his mom from beside Stiles.

Stiles steps back allowing Derek to crowd his mother, and run through his own inspection.

Laura keeps her eyes on Stiles across the room, careful not to reveal anything, but there is definitely pity, and it’s not pity for her mom.

Stiles pointedly doesn’t look at her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...  
>  You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Luh ya, cuties :)


	11. Between your smiles and regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek realizes why Stiles hasn't opened up to him about his past with the help of his mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK ALL OF YOU STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING AND CHECK OUT [THIS ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6498031) AMAZING PIECE OF WORK, MADE BY [HAMANDAZOMBIE](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HamadaZombie/pseuds/HamadaZombie)!
> 
> I am literally speechless. This is the first thing anyone has ever made me and I am freaking out, so please! go give her all the kudos, and hugs, and love, because she is seriously amazing. She has been here since ever and has personally kept me going when inspiration, or motivation was no where to be found but in her comments, and bookmarks. 
> 
> So needless to say, this chapter is dedicated to this beautiful, perfect, little dumpling, alright?!
> 
> Also, thank you to every single one of you that commented after the last chapter. It seriously means the world to me. At that point I was contemplating wrapping this puppy up soon and moving on, but after receiving so much love, and positive feedback it spurred an entire plotting session and ... let me tell you... this is going to end up being a 200k fic at the very least. I have so much I want to do! Oh my god. And I can promise you, that as long as we are all enjoying it I will keep writing it, at least until I hit the end and new ideas stop popping in.
> 
> Also, there are a handful of songs in here, and as always I suggest listening to the song itself because a lot of the scenes depend on the tone, and passion within the vocals. But if you prefer not to, it's perfectly fine because the Lyrics are just as, if not more, important. 
> 
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

After Derek determines that his mother is fine, memory in tact, and all major organs in working order, his entire body sags with relief. Talia, Stiles, and Laura relax a little at the drop in Derek’s tight shoulders. 

Sure, she has a list of broken, and damaged things, but she’s going to be okay and her memory is locked up tight. Derek couldn’t be more relieved.

Derek pulls up a chair next to his mother and finally takes a minute to breathe, and Stiles keeps his distance, probably not wanting to overwhelm him, Derek still isn’t sure why he’s even here. He hasn’t had time to process that because he’s been too wrapped up in assessing his mother. And maybe he’s not willing to admit the comfort Stiles’ presence brought him in this situation, or any other situation. It’s nothing serious, okay?

After a few minutes of silence a nurse comes in to begin the paperwork. Only then does he remember what he heard when he walked into the room. “What did you mean earlier?”

Talia looks up at him, confusion etched between her brows, pupils blown wide from the morphine, and cocktail of drugs pumping through her system for the pain.

“When I came in you told Stiles not to pay for these medical bills  _ too.”  _ Derek clarifies, emphasizing the last word.

Stiles throat audibly clicks behind him.

* * *

 

Talia smiles, with a soft shrug. “Stiles and I have known each other for some years now, and he has a tendency to grow attached to some of the kids we spend time with within the foundation, and he can’t resist easing the parents struggles by paying for their medical costs.”

Derek looks to Stiles for confirmation and Stiles does his best to smile and shrug it off, while taking a massive breath of relief within his mind. Even drugged to her limits, Talia was miraculously covering for Stiles.

Talia continues, “I’ve never met someone as generous, and caring, in all my years. But this shouldn’t come as a surprise you.” She reaches out to pet her sons head.

Laura remains silent from her chair on the other side of the bed, her eyes not leaving Stiles at the foot of the bed. Her all knowing, pitiful, judgy, eyes.

Stiles wants to throw something at her.

The nurse is still standing there waiting for someone to step up and assist her with the paperwork she has, so Derek takes pity and follows her out of the room to get it started.

Once he’s out of the room and they can no longer hear his footsteps, Talia lifts a finger and curls it at Stiles to call him over.

Stiles does as he’s told.

“I know you told me a few months ago, that you were going to tell him when the tour was over, but I won’t keep lying for you.” She says with a well practiced tone.

“I know. And I don’t expect you to. It’s just… hard.” Stiles drops his eyes to the floor, his hands firmly shoved in his pockets.

Laura speaks up. “Stiles, you know he’s going to be really angry when you tell him, and it’s only going to be worse the longer you keep it from him.”

“I know.” He wants to scream how badly he knows from the top of his lungs.

“So then why not  _ tell him _ and get it over with? Mom told me that you refuse to be with him again until he knows, so it’s not like you really have him back. Just tell him!” She shouts exasperated.

Stiles tries to shoot daggers at her, it’s nothing he hasn’t thought about before, and it’s not that simple. “I can’t just  _ tell him _ .” He looks away from Laura who apparently decided that since he called her mom  _ Mom,  _ that she was naturally his sister too. He settles his eyes on Talia, hoping his expression reassures her that he is thinking about everyone’s best interest here. “You remember what he said after the accident, when he realized he lost his memories and you kept trying to remind him of the last two years?” 

Talia and Laura remain silent, probably unsure where he’s going with this.

‘You told him that Kate wasn’t making it up, that he  _ had _ cheated on her, and that he was  _ happier  _ than you had ever seen him.” Stiles swallows thickly.

They both nod with understanding.

“He said that it wouldn’t be any use meeting them (me) now, because they would remember everything and still have all the same feelings and he would have none. That it would be impossible to try and make it work because he would always be too far behind them. It wouldn’t be fair to them, and he would only be a burden. He felt it would be better for them to move on while they still could.” Stiles bites back the emotion. “So much for that, right?”

They both exchange pitying looks so Stiles powers on.

“Anyway, I’ve decided that the best chance we have is for him to remember why he ever loved me in the first place, so that when I tell him it won't be an entirely foreign concept. I’ll wait as long as I have to. I won't force him into anything. And I won't further our relationship as long as he’s in the dark.” Stiles wipes away a stubborn tear. “I can’t afford to fuck this up. I can’t lose him…  _ again. _ ”

* * *

 

**Flashback**

Stiles knows he’s not supposed to be here, not in the room anyway, Derek has made that very clear to his mother and Laura. He doesn’t want to meet the person he was cheating on Kate with, and Stiles can understand why, no matter how badly he wishes he didn’t, he does, because he  _ knows _ Derek. 

Derek doesn’t like to cause pain, or discomfort. He generally goes with the flow, and follows everyone else, but in this moment he feels the best thing for the “Person” is to just let him go. Not to mention he has a lot going on right now. He has multiple broken bones, fractures, and has underwent a few surgeries already as it is. 

The last thing Stiles wants to do is add on more stress.

But right now, Stiles has just landed from another red eye between shows to see how Derek is doing, and no one is in the room but Derek, and he’s sleeping. Stiles can’t resist. 

It’s been days since he’s had his eyes on Derek, he’s only had short phone calls and texts between actually seeing Talia or Laura in the hall, letting him know what Derek is going through. 

Stiles tells himself he’s just going to be a minute. Just look at him. Take in the fact that he’s okay. 

Derek could have  _ died. _ He damn near did, and faces potential new complications every day. 

Stiles doesn’t even bother to rub the falling tears away. How could he be so stupid? How could he let this happen? He was so worried about Kate taking Derek away if she found out that he made them keep it secret. He ignored the danger in favor of having Derek as much as he could. He encouraged Derek to do one of the few things, that even now, fills him with guilt. Cheating. Derek is an honest person, who can’t fathom hurting someone. 

Now, he’s woken up in a hospital, without the last two years of his memory, and is slammed with the fact that he hurt Kate. Feeling like he deserved what happened to him. 

Stiles might as well have crashed the car himself. It’s all his fault.

Derek seems to be in a very deep sleep and Stiles finds himself drawn closer to him with every rise and fall of his chest. The constant reassurance that Derek is  _ okay _ . Stiles knows he landed Derek here. Everyone knew just how psychotic Kate could be, yet they heeded no warning and threw themselves into the snake pit. Only, Derek’s the only one who got bit. 

Stiles wishes he had just kept his fucking dick in his pants. Nothing was worth what had happened to Derek. 

Stiles chokes back an audible sob when he ses the clammy, sweat sticking Derek’s hair to his forehead. Even in sleep, he suffers.

With a light finger, just one, Stiles unsticks the hair from Derek’s forehead. That’s all he was going to do. But now after weeks of no contact, Stiles has his hands on Derek. 

He can’t stop himself.

He traces Derek’s hairline, trying to smooth all the lose hairs back into place. Without Stiles realizing it, he has his hand cupping Derek’s cheek, and he tells himself he’s imagining the slight press of Derek leaning into him for comfort. 

Wishful thinking, that’s all.

Stiles leans forward, consequences be dammed, and plants a single kiss to Derek’s lips. Wishing with every cell in his body that fairy tales are real and  _ True Love’s Kiss _ was all they needed to live happily ever after.

The machine hooked up to his IV starts beeping and Stiles mutes it as quickly as possible like he had so many weeks ago, when Derek was in a coma and they had no idea about the memory loss yet. Stiles had spent every night in the hospital with Derek, just waiting for him to wake up.

“Who are you?”

Stiles flails and nearly knocks over the machinery around him. 

Derek closes his eyes again, grunting slightly with the pain, pushing the button for another dose of morphine. “Well?” He asks, still wondering who the stranger standing above him may be.

Stiles clears his throat. “Sorry. I uhh…” He’s drawing a complete blank.

Even with his eyes closed, Stiles can see the unimpressed roll of Derek’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else, I have the wrong room. Sorry for waking you.” 

Derek grunts a dismissal, and Stiles flees the room to find a small, quiet place for him to fall apart. He holds it together long enough to tell a nurse that Derek’s IV has a blockage, and give the attendant at the desk his bank information so they will charge him for his medical treatment. It’s the least he can do.

Then he somehow makes it out of the building to the waiting town car where he officially falls apart, and accepts what happened for what it really is.

Fairy tales aren’t real, and Stiles is never getting Derek back.

_ Everything is ruined. _

* * *

 

Stiles doesn’t go to the hotel after he leaves the hospital, giving Derek a few more hours alone with his mother, and a few hours for Stiles to be alone  _ period _ . 

There are a lot of old undealt with memories flooding back in and Stiles can’t be in the same room as Derek and his family. 

He just  _ can’t _ .

Allison and Finstock have already moved the bands from one town to the next, ready for the next show that night. Stiles skips the hotel and goes straight to the venue. There are still hours until the crew shows up to start setting up the stage, so when Stiles finds a lone piano mid stage he knows this is where he is supposed to be. 

He slides onto the bench easy, more accurately, collapses down onto it. He looks up at the lone ghost light keeping the stage lit, and lets his head fall back as he sweeps a few fingers across the smooth ivory keys. 

His mind races a mile a minute, but if he was asked what he was thinking about he couldn’t tell you. It’s all just one big mess. His mind is actively trying to ignore all of it. 

_ Just ignore the problem until it goes away. _

He starts playing a tune, one he can’ pinpoint at the moment. Could be a new song, could be something he’s working on, could be one of his own songs, or someone else’s. There’s no telling at this point. 

The sound of the keys echoing off the empty arena slowly drowns out the buzz in his mind and he finally figures out what he’s been playing. 

He is also now more aware of how his long fingers stretch and work together to play the melody over and over until it’s all he can hear. 

“ _ T[hose you’ve known a](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wlq_9JyBvC8)nd lost still walk behind you. _ ” Stiles closes his eyes again, feeling his shoulders fall with each smooth lyric. “ _ All alone, they linger till they find you. Without them, the world grows dark around you, and nothing is the same until you know that they have found you. _ ” Only it’s not the same, Derek’s back but it’s not the same. It taunts. It hints. But it’s never the fucking same.

“ _ Those you’ve pained, may carry that still with them.”  _ Stiles head falls forward with the thought of all the fucking people he has hurt. 

Derek.

Talia, and the rest of the family.

Scott, Lydia, and Isaac who stuck with them through it all and took all the backlash from the label and never resenting Stiles for any of it. Even if Stiles deserved it.

Danny, who knew he wasn’t what Stiles wanted, but took care of him regardless, and got nothing in return.

Another voice joins him and Stiles is too spent to even startle and look toward the noise. Lydia found him. “ _ All the same, they whisper 'All forgiven'. Still your heart says their shadows bring the starlight and everything you’ve ever been is still there in the dark night. _ ” 

No kind words or slight caress will make Stiles feel any less guilty. He’s a plague on his friends and the hits never stop coming.

Stiles picks back up easily, carefull not to move and look at Lydia, he knows he can’t handle that right now. “ _ Though you know you’ve left them far behind.” _

“ _ And the northern wind blows... _ ” She echos from close behind.

“ _ You walk on by yourself and not with them _ .”

She’s even closer now, Stiles smells her perfume before he hears her voice. “ _ The sorrows, your heart goes _ …”

“ _ Still you know they fill your heart and mind. _ ” He wants to drown her out so bad, and the song allows him to try, the way they sing along each other, but separate lines.

“ _ There are those who still know _ .” She grows louder too, demanding to be heard.

Stiles squeezes his eyes closed, blocking everything out for as long as he can, singing over her. “When you say there’s a way through this!”

She ignores his protest and wraps her arms around his shoulders, her soft curls falling over his shoulder. “ _ There’s still hope, there’s still hope! _ ”

Stiles feels his chest constrict, he can’t handle this right now. The more he pulls away, the tighter she holds on. They sing together, and when Stiles’ voice isn’t cracking he’s belting the frustration out as loud as possible. “ _ Those you’ve known, and lost, still walk behind you. All alone, their song still seems to find you. They call you as if you knew their longing. They whistle through the lonely wind, the long blue shadows falling. _ ”

Stiles sings alone and Lydia remains attached to his back, running delicate fingers through his hair. “ _ All alone, but still I hear their yearning. Through the dark, the moon alone there burning. The stars, too, they tell of spring returning. And summer with another wind that no one yet has known _ .”

They sing against each other again and Stiles can no longer block her out, she’s all he hears. He’s not even sure what words are coming out of his mouth. 

“I believe!” Her voice rings in his ears. “ _ There’s still hope, there’s still hope! _ ”

The tears finally fall, and Stiles can’t belt the words like before, his voice weak. “ _ Now they’ll walk on my arm through the distant night, and I won’t let them stray from my heart. Through the wind, through the dark, through the winter light - I will read all their dreams to the stars! _ ” Stiles takes a deep breath, and looks down to see a cluster of tears ricochet off the keys below him. 

“ _ I’ll walk now with them...I’ll call on their names...And Ill see their thoughts are known - Not gone, not gone _ .” Stiles swallows thickly. “ _ They walk with my heart… _ ” 

Lydia breathes against his neck, “ _ Not gone. _ ”

Stiles nods acknowledging her. Derek’s not gone. None of his friends have abandoned him. “ _ And I’ll never let them go… _ ”

“ _ Not gone… _ ” She kisses his temple.

“ _ I’ll never let them go.” _

“ _ Not gone. _ ”

_ “I’ll never let them go. _ ” He feels the stress drain completely from his muscles. He doesn’t know what he would do without her.

“ _ You watch me, just watch me. Im calling, Im calling and one day all will know! _ ” Stiles finishes the song on the keys expertly, able to focus on everything now. He can’t give up, and he just has to remember that no matter what, he will always have his friends. 

_ Always. _

They sit in silence for awhile, minutes, hours, who knows. Lydia’s grip never loosens and Stiles finds comfort in the embrace. The same arms that have never faltered, never let him go, or pushed him away. They may have had one too many screaming fights, but she never backed down.

They were family.

“ _ T[here's a moment y](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ms8EZbGDt1Q)ou know, You're fucked. _ ” 

Stiles hadn’t even heard Scott come in. Stiles flips his head, waking up quickly from his lazy, silent cuddle with Lydia.

Scott smiles brightly at him, not slowing as he makes his way toward Stiles with Isaac close on his tail carrying a drum, and his guitar over his shoulder. “ _ Not an inch more room-” _ Scott continues, “ _ To self destruct! _ ”

Isaac picks up the next line. “ _ No more moves, oh, yeah! The dead end zone! _ ”

Lydia snickers into his ear and sings the next, “ _ Man, you just can't call your soul your own. _ ”

Stiles loves his friends. He discovered  _ Spring Awakening _ back in High School with Lydia and it has been one of his favorite musicals ever since. He never realized his friends had taken the time to learn a few of the songs.

Scott continues with a slap to Stiles shoulder. “ _ But the thing that makes you really jump...Is that the weirdest shit is still to come!”  _ Scott gets into character like the goof he is.

Stiles lets himself laugh for the first time in hours.

_ “You can ask yourself, "Hey what have I done?" _ ” Scott shrugs at the group all circling the piano as Isaac comes in with a chord, and Scott sits to slip into the beat. “ _ You're just a fly, the little guys, they kill for fun.” _

Isaac winks, “ _ Man, you're fucked if you just freeze up. Can't do that thing, that keepin' still. _ ”

“ _ But you're fucked if you speak your mind. _ ” Scott rolls his eyes.

All three of them sing at Stiles. “ _ And you know, uh huh, you will!” _ They nod enthusiastically, and Scott pounds away at the drum, Isaac shreds the guitar, jumping around like a leprechaun, and Lydia swirls around them all, harmonizing like the woodland creature she is. “ _ Yeah, you're fucked all right and all for spite. You can kiss your sorry ass goodbye! Totally fucked, will they mess you up? Well, you know they're gonna try!!” _

After being dragged off the bench to dance with Lydia he joins in, “ _ Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah!” _

They mimic back, happy to have him perk up. “ _ Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.” _

Stiles continues. “ _ Disappear, yeah, well, you wanna try. Wanna bundle up into some big ass lie. Long enough for them to all just quit. _ ” The words sink in and Stiles feels himself lose the pep in his step. He shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to keep going. This is a good song. This is his  _ Fuck Everything Song. _ “ _ Long enough for you to get out of it. _ ”

They take over for him and Lydia swings him around again. “ _ Yeah, you're fucked all right and all for spite. You can kiss your sorry ass goodbye! Totally fucked, will they mess you up? Well, you know they're gonna try!” _

Stiles repeats the chorus with them and allows himself to enjoy the moment. After one more round they fall into the chorus of  _ Blah Blahs _ and drop their instruments to run in circles and dance. 

Scott picks Stiles up by the waist from behind and swirls him in circles more than once. 

Isaac throws Lydia over her shoulder to spin her a for a few seconds, her strawberry hair floating through the air like a dream. 

Stiles rescues her and dips her dramatically, Scott copies them with Isaac. 

It’s like a dream. All of his friends around him, smiling, laughing, embracing each other. 

Stiles wants to press pause. Freeze the frame, and step back and take it all in. It’s been a long times since they have all been alone and together, and open and free. 

Together they scream, one last time, with their fists in the air. “ _ Totally fucked! _ ” Then they all collapse in a pile of long limbs, and don’t move for the next hour. They just cuddle, and find comfort in their constant support system.

Scott breaks the silence after a few minutes. “So I have an idea for the cover song tonight.”

Stiles rolls his head toward his best friend lying next to him, while he runs his fingers through Lydia’s curls on his stomach.

“ _ Follow You, _ by  _ Bring Me the Horizon _ .” Scott explains. “I’m more than sure you can relate to it, but I mean it goes for all of us. Me, Lydia, Allison, and Isaac. We’ll always follow you, you know that right?” Scott gives Stiles his signature puppy eyes, like he always does when he wants to help but doesn’t know how.

“Of course, Bro.” Stiles smiles, reaching out to tap his best friend on the shoulder. “You guys are the best, and I’m never letting you go.” 

Scott smiles back happy he was well received. 

Stiles look back toward the ceiling. “Sorry I always bring this shit every where though. It’s still not fair to you guys.”

Just when Lydia and Scott scoff their disagreements, Isaac speaks up from below Stiles where he has his head resting on Isaac’s belly. “It’s not just you all the time, ya know? I haven’t had a chance to talk about it with you guys yet, but I was told something pretty big a few days ago.”

Scott’s head immediately pops up to look at their quietest friend. Lydia and Stiles crane their heads to look at each other, clueless as to what Isaac might tell them.

“Our attorney met with me back a few towns and told me I have a brother, well another brother… and he wants to meet me.”

“What?!” They all sit up and turn to Isaac who’s still lying on the floor staring at the lights above them. 

“Yea, apparently my dad had another kid while he was married to my mom and the mother came to know my dad well enough that she kept it from him to protect my brother… that’s so weird to say… but they’ve already done blood tests and stuff, and he’s the real deal.” Isaac stops to swallow. “I have a brother.”

“Dude.” Scott says simply, jaw nearly hitting the floor. 

“Yea.”

Lydia whispers, “So what do you want to do?”

Isaac shrugs. “I have no idea.” He finally sits up, and crosses his legs. “I don’t know anything about this guy. And it wouldn’t be the first time a long lost family member came out of the woodworks to find someone who happens to be a celebrity… I don’t know… it’s just… a lot.”

“That’s an understatement.” Stiles tries to joke. 

Isaac rolls his eyes.

“Look.” Stiles clears his throat. “It’s a lot, like you said. And no one expects you to make any quick decision. We can sit on it for awhile. Talk about it a lot, hell, we should hire a private investigator, get all the dirt you know? I’ll call my dad -”

“Stiles.” Lydia warns.

“Don’t  _ Stiles  _ me, this is a big deal!”

Lydia huffs, “We aren’t going to do anything unless Isaac asks us to. We aren’t going to step in and take over, you may mean well, but that is what we all agreed years ago. We will do anything to help each other, but we don’t meddle.”

“Yea, yea.” Stiles knows this all too well. He’s the one that insisted they have this rule. 

They all look to Isaac for further instruction.

“I think I just want to think about it some more for now.”

“So you shall.” Lydia smiles. “Now come on, we have a new song to learn.” She stands up brushing her dress off. 

* * *

 

“How many of you came to see  _ Were! At the Disco? _ ” Stiles shouts at the mass of people, who answer with deafening screams. “Yea, they’re kind of great, aren’t they? Listen, I’m sure you all saw on Twitter today that Derek couldn’t be here tonight. There’s a family emergency and I’m sure none of you want to keep him from his family, right?” 

More screams, and one by one hands are raised in the air forming hearts for Derek. 

“Same, guys. Same.” Stiles smiles, his heart skipping a beat with how much Derek is loved, and how great their fans are. “Now, Erica, Boyd, and Jackson are still here so they are going to play with us like they did a few weeks back, and it’s going to be a blasty blast! You guys ready?” 

The crowd begins chanting “Were Out” over and over again. After the show they played together the night Derek was in the hospital and couldn’t make it, the fan base dubbed that “Were Out” That was their band’s ship name, apparently. 

Stiles laughs, “You guys heard them! Let’s do this.”

* * *

 

Derek’s still sitting in the hospital with his mom. She has insisted he leave, but he won’t, it’s his mom. He’s just the opener any way, the fans won’t be too disappointed, right? 

Wrong.

His phone is buzzing off the hook. It buzzes frequently even on a slow day, but at the rate it’s going now the thing will be dead in five minutes. Derek picks up his phone to silence it, and figure out what the commotion is. 

Twitter is blowing up. 

He’s still not sure how Erica got a hold of his phone and set up an account for him, but he’s since tried to be at least a little social with the fans but this was… unbelievable.

There are hundreds of people on twitter sending love, and sweet nothings, wishing his mother a speedy recovery. 

When word got out that Derek wouldn’t make the show, the fans got curious and scoured the internet for intel. They found that his mother had been in an accident and put two and two together. 

There are just as many sad faces disappointed that they didn’t have a chance to see him tonight, specifically that they wouldn’t see him with Stiles, because  _ Sterek. _

“What’s got you smiling, Sunshine?” 

Derek looks up to see his mom with her head lolled over on her pillow, body heavy with exhaustion, but a soft smile remains on her face. “The fans, they wish you a easy and speedy recovery.”

She smiles, letting her eyes close for a moment. “Awe, aren’t they cute.”

“They’re insane!” Derek chuckles, turning his vibrate back on so his mother can ear the never ending stream of notifications.

She laughs once it sinks in. “They just recognize how beautiful you are. You deserve all the love there is, Derek.” 

Derek does his best to roll his eyes like the comment didn’t give him the warm and fuzzy’s.

“Well, it’s been months since I have had this much time with you to myself. How are you?” She asks, twisting slightly, to face him better.

Derek turns the vibrate back off and sets his phone down. “Good. Busy, but good.”

After a moment of silence his mother scoffs at him. “Really? That’s all you’re going to give me?”

“I don’t know what else you want me to tell you!” Derek swings his arms out in exasperation. There’s so much that has been going on, he doesn’t know where to start.

“Are you happy?” She asks quietly, but manages to make it sound like the most important question she has ever asked.

Derek thinks for a minute, a loaded answer for a loaded question. “Yes. I never thought about being a musician before, not really, but now that I am… I can’t see myself doing anything else.” Derek pauses a moment, letting his words sink in not only for her, but himself. He’s really  _ Happy. _ But there’s more to it. “Stiles is really great.” Derek finally admits.

She pinches her lips, “Yes, he is. I’ve had the privilege of knowing him for the last few years, and he’s a great kid, but Derek… don’t base your happiness on him. If he were gone tomorrow, would you be happy?”

This jars him more than he would like to admit.

“I’m not saying he’s going anywhere, Derek, but if he were?”

“I…” Derek looks at the floor. He isn’t sure if he would be, he spends all his time with Stiles lately, he really likes him too. But they haven’t really started anything serious, so it is completely possible that after the tour, Stiles could leave and not come back. Derek can’t imagine how he would feel if Stiles just…  _ left. _

His mom doesn’t stop studying his features, and Derek is careful not to make eye contact.

Finally, he answers, and maybe deflects.  _ Maybe _ . “I really like him.”

His mom nods, not pressing, just waiting her son out until he figures it out for himself. But what is he supposed to figure out?

“I like him a lot.” The pressure in his chest grows and it becomes unbearable, what if Stiles just  _ left? _ “I know that I should  _ in theory _ be okay if he wasn’t around, but I don’t want to lose him.”

“Why?” She asks simply, leading him where he needs to go.

He blinks. 

“Why can’t you imagine him not around?” She pushes.

Derek swallows, “Because I think…”

“You think?”

“I think I’m falling for him.” 

She smiles brightly at him, and Derek briefly considers leaving. This isn’t funny, and he’s panicking. He hasn’t fallen for anyone since Kate, and look where that landed him. 

She reaches a hand out to his knee, “Does he know that?”

Derek blinks again. No. Stiles doesn’t know anything about Derek’s feelings, only that there is a physical attraction. Then he remembers that they can’t have more because Stiles hasn’t opened up to him. “No, but we can’t go any farther than we are now because he won't talk to me about his past. It wouldn’t work.”

“Derek, you’re smarter than this.” 

Derek narrows his eyes at her. 

“Maybe he is waiting to make sure it’s safe to open up.” 

Derek goes to argue and she silences him with a finger between them. 

“Listen.” She steals her face. “You’ve been in the spotlight long enough to know by now, that nothing is private. More so for him, it seems like the internet knows everything about him. All it takes is one person so spill the beans. So, if he’s keeping something to himself, it’s because it hasn’t been outed yet.” 

Derek lets what she said filter through his brain. Why is this important? “So…”

“Derek. Don’t make me pop you.” She says stern, but with a hint of humor.

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. Then it hits him. “He has to know that he can trust me. That I care about him. That I wouldn’t sell his pain to the media.”

She nods, smiling because he finally landed at the right realization.

“Well, shit.” 

She closes her eyes, sleep nearing again. “Stiles is a very generous person, and he has a lot of demons in his past. Just make sure he knows that you aren’t going anywhere either and the rest will work itself out. Okay?” She peeks an eye at him. 

Derek smiles, leaning down to give his mom a kiss on the forehead. “Okay, mom. I’m going to go find him now and try….”

“You do that, Sunshine.” 

With that, Derek picks up his things, calls a taxi, and sets out for Stiles.

* * *

 

Stiles takes a moment between songs to catch his breath, and addresses the audience in relaxed conversation. “How many of you out there are  _ Bring Me the Horizon  _ fans?” Stiles nods with the well received band. “Good, good. I expected as much since they toured with us last year. As many of you know we had the privilege to work on our music together, and I helped co-write  _ Follow You _ , and tonight we are going to try and do it justice, but as you all know, they are amazing and I can only hope I sound as good.” 

The crowd disagrees, and Stiles fights a smile, the blush still rising after all these years. 

The music begins, and the lights go down, only a soft purple lighting the stage. “[My head is haunting me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EfE-tV8Cq00) _  and my heart feels like a ghost. I need to feel something, cause I'm still so far from home. _ ” Stiles remains still, slipping into the song, and the time he wrote it. “ _ Cross your heart and hope to die, promise me you'll never leave my side. _ ”

He wasn’t talking physically when he wrote this. Derek was already gone, but Stiles was afraid of losing his memories. Afraid of having an accident and ending up like Derek. If neither of them remembered, did it really happen? If a tree falls in the woods and nobody's around to hear it, does it still make a sound? Stiles can’t imagine their story just evaporating.

“ _ Show me what I can't see when the spark in my eyes is gone. You got me on my knees, I'm your one man cult. _ ” Stiles now compares this song to his current situation. “ _ Cross my heart and hope to die, promise you I'll never leave your side. _ ”

Stiles looks up toward the lights, unsure where Derek is at the moment, but wishing he could hear his words at this very moment. “ _ Cause I'm telling you, you're all I need. I promise you you're all I see. Cause I'm telling you, you're all I need. I'll never leave…. _ ”

“ _ So you can drag me through Hell, If it meant I could hold your hand!” _ He reaches his hands before him. “ _ I will follow you cause I'm under your spell and you can throw me to the flames! I will follow you, I will follow you…” _ Stiles thinks about the interview the other day, how Scott has said that he would walk through flames to spare another a second of pain. How long had they been planning to do this song?

Stiles props his foot up on a speaker, his elbow resting on his knee. “ _ Come sink into me and let me breathe you in. I'll be your gravity, you be my oxygen. _ ” Stiles can’t breathe when Derek’s not around. Those first years he was a mess, he had finally learned to deal, and now he’s back. Stiles can’t imagine going back to the way it was before. He can’t lose him again.

“ _ So dig two graves cause when you die, I swear I'll be leaving by your side… _ ” Before the emotion can grab him, Stiles flips his plaid shirt tails as he attacks the next chorus. “ _ So you can drag me through Hell! If it meant I could hold your hand! I will follow you cause I'm under your spell, and you can throw me to the flames! I will follow you…” _

Stiles loses himself in the rest of the song, singing to himself, his past self, Derek, past Derek, the fans, his friends, everyone. He flings himself around the stage, dramatically sings to Isaac and Lydia, like every word is about them and them alone. 

Someone gets the idea to turn on a stage fan and his button up shirt flings and flaps in the air dramatically, just like his life.

Stiles finally lets his heart settle. These words are as true as they are going to get. Stiles will follow Derek wherever he goes, and for as long as he wants him around. He would marry him tomorrow, or be his best man at another wedding. It didn’t matter, as long as Stiles got to stay by his side.

When the song ends Stiles lines up with the band for a final bow, then darts off stage to get some water and a sit break before the encore.

Suddenly, he’s pulled backwards by the tail of his shirt, and he may or may not let out a not so manly squeak. He finds himself in a dark closet, and it’s not until he breathes in that he knows who’s in there with him. 

Stiles can smell Derek’s cologne, and detergent. It’s only a matter of seconds before he can smell Derek’s breath too. 

Derek crowds him against the door, and as aggressive as all his moves were up to this point, he’s slow and gentle when he finally requests entrance against Stiles’ mouth. 

Of course Stiles lets him in. The kiss is slow and gentle and Stiles can’t bother to wonder what brought it on, all he knows is he’s happy. Derek is back, and Derek wants him again. Not all is lost.

Derek gets a little more rough, his beard scrapes across Stiles cheek, and down his neck, and Derek’s hands slide with purpose up from his waist, along his arms, and to his hands. Derek holds his hands above his head against the door, fingers laced together. 

“Oh my God, Derek.” Stiles huffs, eyes blown wide, and his head thrown back as Derek goes to town on his neck. Stiles can’t even imagine that this is like old times. The neck was always off limits, because it was dangerous and they were afraid of being caught. This is different, and the first time Stiles has imagined Derek stripped bare, and pushing into him. 

It’s been way too long.

Derek huffs hot air over where he’s been sucking what is surely a deep purple mark. “Do you have any idea how good you look on stage?” 

Stiles takes it back, this is definitely like old times.

“Fuck.” Derek breathes finding Stiles’ mouth again.

“How long were you watching?” Stiles asks between breaths.

Derek runs his mouth along Stiles’ cheekbone, latching onto his ear. “Long enough.” 

Stiles finds his legs opening slightly, making room for Derek’s hips to settle into where they belong. 

Derek’s hard, fuck is he hard. Derek bites Stiles ear when he feels Stiles matching heat, and Stiles’ hips stutter forward. 

“Fuck, Derek. Jesus.” Now Stiles pulls his hands free and grabs Derek’s face to latch onto his lips for dear life. Once in position, Stiles wraps his arm around Derek’s neck not allowing him to pull away. 

The sounds of their harsh breath, rustling clothes, and needy moans echo from the four small walls surrounding them. Stiles remembers briefly that they have an encore, but he can’t pull himself away.

Derek runs his arms down Stiles sides, and lifts his left leg over his own hip, giving them a better angle, before he resumes his expert slip and slide of his hips against Stiles. 

This is exactly like old times. Stiles might sob a little at how fucking euphoric he is in this moment.

Derek pulls his lips away a fraction, and whispers into the space between them. “Don’t go out to the party afterwards, come back to the bus with me.” 

There’s a vulnerability in the words and it about breaks Stiles’ heart, because he  _ can’t _ . Stiles can’t sleep with Derek until he knows the truth. He’s broken a lot of his rules already, because he has no control with Derek, but he can’t break that one. 

“Stiles?”

Stiles hadn’t realized that he had frozen. 

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay…” Derek starts releasing him, and tries to step back. 

Stiles finds his strength again, and tightens his arm around Derek’s shoulders pulling him back in. “No, it’s not like that. I was just thinking, making sure I could, but I can’t.” Stiles feels Derek’s shoulders fall. “It’s Scott’s dog’s Birthday today and since we couldn’t be there I sort of promised him drinks in Buzz’s honor after the show.” Stiles can feel the low scowl in the dark room. 

“You’re blowing me off…. For a dog's birthday?” 

Stiles rolls his eyes, “You’re blowing yourself off, I never said you couldn’t come.”

Derek makes a rumbly sound, and snaps their hips together where they are both still very hard. “That was the idea.” 

Stiles barks a laugh and shoves Derek backwards. “You’re unbelievable. No, we’re going out. Bro code.”

Derek kisses him again in acceptance and just as it begins to pick up again, Stiles pushes him back.

“No, I have to go. We have an encore!” Stiles pulls the door open, and runs away before he loses one more string of restraint.

* * *

 

“[Whenever you find it,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_ucBH4MU5Q) _  It’s none of my business. Now wherever you go, go, go....It’s not my concern. _ ” Stiles wrote this in the last year, his better year after the accident. He had finally accepted that Derek wasn’t coming back but at least he was happy. 

“ _ But for a second your attention just belonged to me, and it passed so fast it just fractured all my cool. _ ” Stiles liked to imagine that Derek would hear one of his songs and if nothing else, it would touch him on some level. When Stiles let himself think that way… his emotions always got a little out of control.

He would imagine Derek hearing one, maybe one he had written back when they were happy, one that Derek sat in a hotel room and listened to it be written, and his memories would miraculously come flooding back. Never happened though, clearly.

“ _ I’m not broken hearted I’m just kinda pissed off. _ ” Stiles was trying, he was genuinely trying to be okay. To move on. But every second of every day, something reminded him of Derek and then he would see Kate and all he wanted was to fight someone. He wasn’t always sure who.

Stiles looks back stage and sees Derek standing there, smiling as Stiles swings his hips with the music.“ _ Cause Allie I was so good back then! _ ” Stiles winks at Derek. “ _ But I wonder if I’d be so good if I saw you again!”  _

_ Clearly not.  _ Stiles thought, with how close he came to falling off the wagon only moments ago.

Stiles didn’t choose the name Allie just because he needed a girls name to make it more mainstream, to avoid using Derek’s name, or any other reason than  _ The Notebook.  _

He found himself one night, with a bowl of ice cream and tissues, watching  _ The Notebook _ in some hotel when the ending hit him like it never had before. 

Derek was his Allie. 

Stiles knew that if he could he would read the story of their two years every single day to Derek if it meant he could have a few minutes of clarity. And then do it again and again, every single day, for the rest of his life.

“ _ Listen miss, you’ve got me!” _ Stiles doesn’t break eye contact with Derek, there’s no way he knows the song was written about him. “ _ You should’ve taught me such naughty things! Oh, you could’ve taught me such naughty things!” _

Derek blushes at that and Stiles takes great pride in the rising color.

_ “Oh, you sang to me in a whisper, a capella, Cross-legged on Andrew’s bed _ .” Again, not a random name, but the name of the hotel where Stiles had officially realized he was falling for Derek while he complained about Kate being MIA (per the usual).

“ _ And I, drunk beyond my fifteen years, _ ” He wasn’t fifteen but the last time he had been that drunk, he had been. Stiles had always been bothered that twenty-two didn’t have the same ring. “ _ Wished to be anywhere else instead. ‘Cause I was too terrified of you, and all I was too scared to death to do!”  _ Stiles winks at Derek again, watching the blush rise ever higher.

_ “So I slid off the top of the mattress, and crumpled to the floor. And the sad fact is. You said you were protected, I thought you meant you have a gun!” _ Stiles turns and shoots a finger gun at Derek with a wink, before motioning for him to join him on stage.

When the crowd picks up on what is happening, they all lose their ever loving minds. Derek has no choice now, but to do as he’s told.

Stiles sings in earnest toward Derek, hamming it up for the crowd. He pulls his button up close around his neck as though modest, and looks up at Derek through his lashes. “ _ Allie I was so good back then!” _

When Derek gets close Stiles pulls him in by the collar, “ _ But I wonder if I’d be so good if I saw you again?”  _

Derek must still be on the high he was riding (pun not intended) in the closet, because he grabs Stiles by the hips pulling them flush together.

“Listen miss, you’ve got me! You should’ve taught me such naughty things!” Stiles sings loud and proud as Derek turns him around in his arms and nestles his face in the crook of Stiles neck. Stiles throws his head back as tingles run throughout his limbs. “ _ Oh, you could’ve taught me such naughty things!”  _

They continue this charade, that isn’t really a charade, for the duration of the song, and Stiles does everything he can not to pop a boner in front of thousands of people. It was bad enough back in junior high in a room of twenty people. 

_ “You could’ve taught me such naughty things!” _

Derek slides his plaid over shirt off and down his shoulders, with just the tips of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake, and Stiles needs this song to be over  _ now! “Allie I was so gooood back then, but I wonder, but I wonder, but I wonder, but I wonder if i’d be sooo Goood!” _ Stiles sways with Derek’s bare hands caressing his arms below the sleeves of his black t shirt.

Stiles isn’t sure he’s even singing the song right when his discarded shirt comes up in front of him and wraps around his neck when he sings  _ “Naughty things!” _ again, and no, you must have misheard him, he did not whimper. 

Stiles doesn’t fight Derek for the last thirty seconds, just counting down the seconds until he can pop a well deserved boner away from the limelight. Where there aren’t cameras. Flashing. Everywhere. Jesus Christ.

When the song ends and Derek drags him off stage, the crowd is deafening. Stiles isn’t sure he has ever heard a reaction that loud in his entire life. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> I look forward to where this is all headed, and I really hope I don't disappoint.  
> I'm off to pack for my trip to see my sister. She bought us tickets to see Adore' Delano in concert, and I'm super freaking happy. Me + Drag Queens + Music + Alcohol + a Designated Driver = A pretty great night. 
> 
> *Happy sigh*
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	12. Last year's wishes are this year's apologies.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek wants a lot of things, but for now he'll settle for talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

Once safely out of sight of the audience, Derek crowds Stiles into a corner to latch onto his lips once again. He’s not met with any resistance, and they pick up where they left off in the closet moments before the encore. 

When Stiles performs Derek goes from zero to sixty in .6 seconds. He can’t pin-point what exactly sets him off, it’s just a combination of his voice, his posture, his dancing, his eyes, the strain in his neck when he hits a particularly strong note, how his fingers keep the beat on the microphone as though he’s not even aware, how he seems to be singing to each person in the audience like they are the single most important thing in the world. A shiver runs through Derek as he  replays how Stiles had done just that, to  _ him  _ only moments ago with  _ Allie.  _

Stiles’ leg slides up to hook over Derek’s hip again, their heavy panting filling their ears, both rock hard, and desperate for release.

Derek knows this isn’t what his mother meant when she told him to tell Stiles how he felt, he’s not an idiot, but he can’t stop himself. They have been on the road for almost six months, and Derek would be lying if he said he hadn’t started falling for Stiles back during the press tour. It’s just something about Stiles that makes Derek feel safe, like he’s home. Derek finds himself lost when Stiles isn’t around, and it terrifies him.

It’s been the slowest burn he has ever experienced, and he’s ready to pop. He just needs Stiles in any way he will give him. He’d settle for just being friends, or only kissing, or the whole nine yards. The only thing he can’t do is  _ lose _ Stiles.

The thought terrifies him.

“Derek…” Stiles pants, breaking free of Derek’s lips by throwing his head back against the wall behind him, his chest rises and falls in quick succession as he tries to clear the fog in his brain. 

Derek immediately latches onto Stiles exposed neck.

Stiles lets out a sinful moan, physically trembling in Derek’s arms. “Derek, please…” Stiles pulls at the hair at the nape of Derek’s neck. “We need…” He whines, unable to string words together. He somehow pulls Derek’s head up by the hair to lock eyes with him. “We need to stop.” 

Derek can see the conflict bubbling within Stiles. He doesn’t want to stop, but he needs to for some reason. Derek rests his head against Stiles’, closing his eyes, and taking a measured breath he slowly releases Stiles’ leg.

Stiles relaxes at that, understanding that Derek is trying to calm down and back off. They both breathe for awhile, and Stiles holds onto the lapels of Derek’s jacket like he can’t bear the thought of letting go.

Derek shares the sentiment.

“Can we talk?” Derek tries again, this time making it clear that he wants to talk to Stiles, not just get in his pants, but that is definitely on the to-do list. At the top actually.

_ Derek’s To-Do List: _ __  
**_Stiles._ ** ****__  
**_Frequently._ ** ****__  
**_In Multiple Positions._ ** ****__  
_ Things. _ _  
_ __ Some other things too.

“About what?” Stiles asks, eyes still closed, forehead pressed against Derek’s, his eyelashes casting a dark shadow over his cheekbones.

Derek brings a hand up Stiles arm gently, trying to show affection, comfort, and reassurance. “About us?” He braves.

Stiles goes rigid, but his eyes remain closed. “Yeah.” He finally breathes.

Dere’s stomach flips in excitement. Stiles isn’t pushing him away, this is a good thing.

“But,” Stiles cuts in, “I still have to go out with Scott tonight.” He looks at Derek, “For Buzz’s birthday.”

Derek nods once, bumping his nose against Stiles’, and finally steps back to go find the rest of the bands, and get Buzz’s birthday over with so he can take Stiles somewhere private and talk to him.

When they finally take in their surroundings they aren’t prepared for what they see. 

Body guards barricading doors, a broken camera in Finstock’s hand as he continues to berate a young journalist. Lydia, Scott, and Allison over by the refreshment table looking anywhere but at them. Boyd, Erica, and Jackson on the other hand are staring a hole through them, judging, and not at all amused. 

Stiles starts to make his way toward his friends, but stops a few feet away and looks back at Derek, mouth falling open only to snap shut as his adam's apple bobs twice, then turns again and walks ahead.

Derek looks over toward his asshole friends and decides to follow Stiles instead of going toward them so they can nag him. When he gets close, Allison clears her throat and Stiles looks up to see Derek step up beside him. 

Stiles continues talking, “So I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal if Derek tagged along, the others too? Let's make a thing of it! Have the biggest birthday party for Buzz yet! Yeah?!” Stiles looks at Scott who looks a little confused, but nods as a big smile stretches across his cheeks. 

“That sounds awesome, dude! You’re the best!” Then Scott wraps an arm around Stiles and drags him away, giving him a tight squeeze. He calls over his shoulder as they walk away, “We’ll meet you guys at the bus, going to call my mom real quick and make sure she’s making Buzz feel special on his birthday.”

Derek and the rest nod, then follow security outside to the bus so they can change and clean up a bit.

* * *

 

“What’s going on?” Scott asks once they are out of their friends line of sight. 

“Nothing.” Stiles shrugs, attempting to make the most innocent face of his career.

Scott rolls his eyes, “We only celebrate Buzz’s birthday when you're avoiding something, which by the way - it’s nowhere near his birthday, dude.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. Just because he’s as easy to read as  _ One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish, _ doesn’t mean that Scott has to call him on it. That’s just rude.

Stiles deflects, like always. “I know Buzz’s birthday, I’m not a complete terrible person.”

“Stiles, talk to me.” Scott powers past his deflection. “Things looked like they were going good with you and Derek,  _ better  _ than good - seriously, ask anyone! It was like softcore porn!”

Stiles feels himself blush. “Sorry.”

Scott tilts his head down to the side, “Don’t apologize, no one cares, we were all just happy to see you and Derek hitting it off again. But, Stiles, tell me what’s wrong. I’m your best friend.”

With a deep breath, Stiles tells his best friend exactly what has him so conflicted. “Derek wants to talk, and that means I have to tell him. I can’t - I'm not ready - and things are going so well - and I'm just going to fuck everything up - and he wants me, Scott. Like really wants me, and I can't do that yet, I can't sleep with him. There will be no sexy times until he knows, and i'm just kind of freaking out right now. So I told him I couldn’t go back to the bus with him because we have to celebrate Buzz’s birthday, because I fucking panicked, okay?” Stiles huffs, finally catching his breath.

Scott nods once, then grabs his friend's shoulder. “Alright, let's go give Buzz the biggest non birthday party of his life!”

Sometimes, Stiles loves his best friend. 

* * *

 

Derek watches Erica, Boyd, and Jackson approach from the rear of the bus once they locate Derek smoking. He hoped they would all be too busy cleaning up to come look for him.

He was wrong.

He takes a long drag when Erica takes a deep breath in front of him

“This is an intervention.” She says crossing her arms.

Derek rolls his eyes. He’s a grown ass man, and he can do what he wants. 

She continues. “We don’t trust him.”

Derek looks between Boyd and Jackson. “I thought you all liked him.” Sure, Erica has told him that she thinks he has secrets, but so does everyone, and Stiles has been nothing but good to all of them. What the hell is this about?

Boyd speaks next, “We do. As a fellow musician in the industry, he’s great, and we really lucked out.”

Derek nods a ‘Duh.’ toward him. 

Boyd continues, “But we don’t think he’s good for you, and we really think you should cool it with him.”

“Yea,” Jackson cuts in with a scoff, “Like thirty degrees at least. What we all just witnessed was unacceptable, and I will be sending you my therapy bill.”

Derek turns to Jackson, “Don’t even give me that.” He points at Jackson, “We witness all of your conquests, and have for many years, with girls you didn’t even know the name of.”

Erica laughs and Derek turns on her.

“Don’t laugh. We all hear you and Boyd every fucking day on the bus.” Derek levels her with a look.

She huffs, “That’s different, we’ve been together for years, and you know-”

“What I know-” Derek cuts her off, “Is that you two fight just as much as you fuck, and I am an adult who can make my own decisions, so butt the fuck out of it.”

The three of them freeze and deflate in front of him.

He knows he’s being an asshole, but so are they, and he has a lot of pent up energy and nerves right now. Truth is, he’s just as scared as they are. He hasn’t opened up to anyone the way his wants to so badly with Stiles in a very long time, and the last time he did he ended up in a hospital for months. He just cannot ignore Stiles. He can’t ignore the way he makes him feel.

“Look,” He begins smoothly closing his eyes to calm his nerves, and takes another drag from his cigarette. “You are my best friends, and I appreciate your concern, I really do, but please just let me do this my way. If it goes bad, it goes bad, and I will handle that if I have to.” He looks at all of them hoping they will give it a rest. He really does love his friends and can never repay them for what they have done for him, but he needs them to step back on this one. “Okay?” 

They nod one at a time. 

Erica steps forward and kisses him on the cheek. “Alright. I’ll do my best, but if he hurts you-”

“You’ll hurt  _ him _ .” Derek smirks looking down. “We know.”

They all giggle at her pursed lips.

“Damn right.” She confirms before leading them toward the town car waiting for them. “Now, where are we going?”

Derek laughs, rubbing a hand down his face. “We’re celebrating Buzz’s birthday.”

“Buzz?” Jackson asks.

“Scott’s dog back home.”

They erupt into confused, yet enthusiastic laughter and load into the car and wait on the others to join.

* * *

 

They all spill out of the car in front of a swanky club, and are immediately overwhelmed with flashing lights as they make their way through the crowd toward the door. Allison gets them in without delay.

They head upstairs to the VIP section and order drinks.

Derek notices that Stiles is sitting on the other side of the table and paying very close attention to his friends, or his fingers, and pointedly not looking at him. He tells himself it’s not a big deal, and that it’s not weird. Tonight is about Buzz.

Their drinks are distributed among them and Stiles throws his in the air, “To Buzz. For he’s the best cuddle buddy, and stick getter in the history of ever! Happy birthday, buddy!”

“Happy Birthday!” They all laugh clinking glasses together, then throw them back to drink as much as possible. 

When Derek brings his head back down he finds Stiles watching him over his drink, and proceeds to choke on it when Derek raises an eyebrow in question at the intensity of his stare.

Stiles immediately orders a tray of shots. 

They all throw a handfull back, and Stiles leads Lydia and Allison out to the dancefloor.

Derek sinks in his chair and nurses his screwdriver as he thinks.

Stiles knows he wants to talk, and said he would. There isn’t a problem. Derek’s just nervous. 

What if Stiles doesn’t want anything more than a cuddle buddy? What if he is still hung up on an ex and is just using Derek for comfort? What if? What if? What if? Derek’s mind won't relent.

Derek passes the time watching everyone drink, laugh, and dance. 

Allison and Scott are close, dancing slowly even to the fast songs, exchanging gentle kisses. Derek remembers Stiles telling him about the history of relationship. 

Scott and Allison weren’t always able to be open about their relationship, and aren’t technically supposed to now because their contract states that they aren’t to have relationships with management, but Chris stepped in and hushed all repercussion because he wants his daughter to be happy.

At their next negotiation they are removing that from their contract so they can do as the please no matter who is watching. This is also the first time they have toured together, so they are reveling in all the time they are able to spend together. 

Derek smiles, happy for them to be with the one they love.

Boyd and Erica remain close, but Erica makes a point to dance with everyone around her. It’s a game. She makes Boyd jealous and then they leave together and Boyd reminds her of what they have, and she reassures him that she doesn’t want anyone else.

Jackson dances with random girls, but Derek notices how he keeps his eyes on Lydia. They have been flirting pretty heavy for the last few months, but Lydia is not easily deceived. Derek isn’t even sure what her relationship history is like, and makes a note to google later.

Lydia dances with Isaac and Stiles, the three of them presenting an odd dance group. You have Isaac who’s loose limbs flow with the music, and tall form curls around and over the two as he alternates between who he dances with. Lydia shimmies her shoulders and twirls her skirt, shooting flirty eyes at anyone who looks at her. Baiting. Teasing. 

And then there’s Stiles.

Stiles is all over the place. 

One minute he’s doing the sprinkler, mouth wide, and jovial. The next he’s twerking against a bystander. Then he whips Lydia out by the arm and twirls her back into his chest to dance like a gentleman. He does much of the same with Isaac, and Isaac him. 

They grab shots as they pass and throw them back not missing a step in whatever form of dance they are engaged in.

Derek considers getting up and joining them, but he’s never really danced before. Sure, he dances on stage, but that’s different. He’s singing and connecting with the lyrics and music he helped write. He’s engaging with the audience, and embodying the music. This is different. 

Generally, when they go out after a show they don’t dance. They drink, laugh, smoke, then crash in a hotel or on the bus and do it all over again the next day.

Derek notices Stiles looking at him across the dancefloor, then Stiles tilts his head toward a side door with a smoking sign above it. Derek nods and gets up to follow Stiles toward the door.

When they hit the cool night air Derek notes the drop in Stiles shoulders, and listens as he takes a deep breath, before he turns around and pulls out his cigarettes and lights one for Derek then himself.

“Having a good time?” Derek asks conversationally.

Stiles smiles as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Oh yea. Would still be dancing, but I felt bad for your loner self and couldn’t keep looking at you pout across the room by yourself.”

“I wasn’t pouting.” Derek protests.

Stiles clicks his tongue. “Totally pouting.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but smiles, happy to spend a few minutes with Stiles.

“Seriously. Just dance with us!” Stiles all but shouts. “It’s easy, I’ll help you.” He wiggles his eyebrows and hips in unison.

Derek imagines just how Stiles might ‘ _ help him’. _ “Fine.” He agrees like he’s making a huge sacrifice.

Stiles face splits into a smile, and he takes both of their cigarettes to snuff out before dragging Derek back through the door and to the dancefloor as another upbeat song begins. Stiles leads the way, holding Derek’s hand captive over his shoulder in case he tries to run away. 

Derek’s not going anywhere, couldn’t if he tried.

They weave themselves back to the group as the lyrics start up. 

“[Baby, why you staring](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxninQJWPOo) _  at your cell phone?”  _

Stiles flips around, settling before Derek, and letting his hips fall back into motion like before. 

“ _ Why you got your back against the wall? _ ” 

Stiles pulls at Derek’s shirt, daring him to dance. 

“ _ What you talkin' 'bout with all your girlfriends? You need to get your ass out on the floor!”  _

Stiles continues dancing like a fool, obviously trying to get him to loosen up, and all Derek can do is drop his head and cover his face with a hand. Stiles is almost too confident for his own good, and Derek is embarrassed for him, but would also fight anyone who tried to tell him he was anything but amazing.

_ “I know you want a baller, baby, I understand! _ ” 

Stiles pulls Derek’s hand away, demanding his audience of one as he shifts his hands in the air from side to side. 

“ _ Who's wearing all that jewelry and expensive name brands. _ ” 

Stiles pulls at his own collar as he levels Derek with a cocky stare, and Derek finds himself raising an eyebrow in response.

“ _ But I can show you something that ain't none of them can…” _

Stiles cocks his chin up when he makes it within inches of Derek’s face. He trails a finger along Derek’s jaw, trying to get a rise out of him, and Derek fights the urge to give Stiles everything he wants, and probably more. Stiles eyelids are heavy and trained on Derek’s lips, his own tongue coming out to lick at his bottom lip. 

“ _ Cause I, cause I….” _

Then Stiles jumps back, and throws his body in the air as he begins mouthing the lyrics dramatically. “ _ Cause I ain't too cool to dance! _ ” He holds an arm out in front of him, pointing at the floor with the beat, his limbs loose. “ _ Cause this right here's my jam!” _

The smile on Derek’s face hurts, and he knows his stupid teeth are completely on display but he can’t stop.

Stiles comes closer again, singing to Derek, but hardly audible over the deafening volume of the club. “ _ So come on, baby, take my hand! If you ain't too cool to dance, If you ain't too cool, let's.” _ Stiles grabs Derek by the hips, trying to loosen him up and direct his movements.

“ _ Boogie-oogie, boogie-oogie-oogie. _ ” 

Derek clumsily lets his waist be led, but mostly just twists and he can see some frustration bleed into Stiles face. 

Stiles fits their bodies together and tries to lead him on a more personal level, and Derek lets his limbs go pliant, holding onto Stiles hips in an attempt to give as much as he’s getting.

“ _ Boogie-oogie, boogie-oogie-oogie _ .” 

Stiles smile grows larger as Derek grows more comfortable, their hips moving almost without him thinking about it, like they were made for each other. 

“ _ Boogie-oogie, boogie-oogie-oogie. _ ” 

Stiles bites his lip at Derek, thrusting sharply with the next line. “ _ If you ain't too cool to dance.” _

Derek chuckles at how perfectly timed the song was for the moment.

Stiles slips around Derek’s back, trailing his hand across his collarbone and shoulder blade, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“ _ Don't you be afraid to shake your booty.” _

He trails a finger along his pants line, and Derek follows Stiles face over his shoulder, seeing the same heat reflected in Stiles’ eyes. 

“ _ And don't be too shy to work them hips.”  _

Stiles pulls Derek’s backside flush against himself, and Derek is too shocked to really register if he can, in fact, feel any definition in Stiles lap. 

All Derek can think about is how terrifying and incredible it would be if they were in this position with less clothes.

_ “Back it on up and bring it to me. I'm the one you wanna go home with. _ ” 

Stiles pulls his hips back, and snaps forward into Derek’s ass making him nearly topple forward with the force.

Derek regains his balance, and flips around quickly to find Stiles giggling manically. All Derek can do is hold his own violated ass cheeks and stare at Stiles open mouthed.

Stiles apologizes by slinking forward and trying to reel in the laughter as the song begins to repeat.

_ “I know you want a baller, baby, I understand… _ ”

Derek loses track of the lyrics as Stiles runs his hands up his arms, and cradles his face for a gentle kiss. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but everything around him grows quiet, and stands still. 

They remain close, swaying with the music, when all of a sudden Stiles pulls away to do the sprinkler with Isaac and Scott. 

“ _ Cause I ain't too cool to dance! Cause this right here's my jam!” _

Derek steps forward this time and grabs Stiles outstretched hand. 

“ _ So come on, baby, take my hand, If you ain't too cool to dance, If you ain't too cool, let's. _ ” 

Derek slides his hand down Stiles side, and down his thigh to pull it beside his own. Derek slots their legs together and grinds down on Stiles’ thigh, and he on his. 

_ “Boogie-oogie, boogie-oogie-oogie _ .”

Derek can see Laura’s favorite movie in his head,  _ Dirty Dancing _ , and he is doing his best to awe Stiles with his minimal dance skills right now.

From the look on his face, it’s working. Stiles blushes over a smile, follows Derek’s direction, and hangs his arms over Derek’s shoulders. They are tangled together and Derek couldn’t even tell you what the club looks like at this point, with Stiles encompassing them with his long broad shoulders.

Derek can’t help the smug grin he knows he’s sporting. 

Stiles plays lazily with the hair at the base of Derek’s neck, letting his head fall back with the dip of their grinding. He closes his eyes occasionally, feeling the music, but he always opens them and locks back onto Derek. Like he’s trying to figure something out.

Suddenly, Stiles is being ripped from Derek’s arms. 

Derek doesn’t panic.

Much.

Derek locates Scott dragging him over as the melody shifts.

_ “Break it down now, break it down now.” _

Scott and Stiles are facing away from Derek, and they pull their shirts above their waist band in the back as they begin twerking their way down to the floor. 

_ “Break it down to the ground, to the ground now.” _

Allison, and Lydia are cheering to the left of Derek, and Allison slips a single into Scott’s waistband. Only then does Derek notice Isaac on the other side of Scott. It’s a miracle that Derek noticed Scott at all, honestly.

Stiles’ jeans are far too tight, and Derek hates them.

_ “Break it down now, break it down now. To the ground, to the ground, to the ground now.” _

Stiles bounces on the balls of his feet when he gets as low as he can.  The three of them begin to rise, sticking their butts out to vibrate toward the girls.

Stiles should  _ not  _ be able to shake his ass this fucking well, and this is not helping Derek maintain any thought of  _ talking _ tonight, when all he wants to do is lick Stiles from head to toe.

_ “Shake your ass now, shake your ass now. Shake your ass, make your boyfriend jealous.”  _

That's when Derek dislocates his eyes from Stiles ass, and looks up to see Stiles giving him a shit eating grin.

Fuck.

Busted.

_ “Shake your ass now, shake your ass now.”  _

Stiles bends forward, pulling his shirt slightly higher, letting Derek see a few moles crying for attention. Then he pops his ass as he bounces backwards toward Derek, landing his still moving rear, right in Derek’s lap. 

“ _ Shake your ass, make your boyfriend jealous!” _

The girls cheer as their boys return to them to dance more, now that their twerk team is complete, and Derek knows he’s beat fucking red. 

Stiles remains facing away from Derek, pressed along his front, and slides his arms over his head and around Derek’s. He pulls Derek’s head into the crook of his shoulder. 

Derek happily buries his heated face there and grips Stiles’ hips, falling back into the sway of the song.

Derek runs his fingers up the underside of Stiles arms in front of him, watches the goosebumps rise, and Stiles’ mouth fall open. 

“ _ But I can show you something that ain't none of them can… Cause I, cause I..” _

Derek takes one of Stiles’ hands when he reaches the end of his arm around his own neck, and whips him out like he had seen him do with Lydia and Isaac earlier, then reels him back in. 

_ “Cause I ain't too cool to dance!” _

Stiles falls into a fit of laughter and they both slip their thighs together again. They press their foreheads together and breathe in the taste of each other’s breath as the chorus plays again. 

Stiles closes his eyes, a gentle smile fanning his face, and Derek keeps his eyes locked on Stiles. He’s seen a lot of looks on Stiles, but nothing like this. Nothing this content, happy, and relaxed.

Derek wants to see this more. He slides his hands up Stiles back, caressing. They are practically dry humping in a crowded club, and all Derek wants to do is hold Stiles and protect him from whatever worries he carries around with him each day.

Derek realizes they aren’t really dancing anymore when the music calms down. 

“ _ You see I'm cool, but I ain't too cool to dance.”  _

Stiles finally opens his eyes and looks at Derek, and he sees a tint of worry again. 

Derek lifts his hand again and gently lifts Stiles’ chin so he can kiss the corner of his mouth and try and stave off whatever is worrying him.

Stiles clears his throat when he notices his friends walking back toward their table for refreshments.

Derek releases him, and follows Stiles’ lead. 

The next hour passes quickly. 

They sit and order a new round of drinks, and Derek asks Scott what kind of dog he has. It’s a golden retriever that he and Deaton tried to train as a Service Animal, but he couldn’t be tamed so Scott kept him for himself and Stiles, because they are Bro’s and the Sheriff never let him get his own dog. Scott then proceeded to wedge himself between Derek and Jackson to enthusiastically show him all the pictures of Buzz, Stiles, and himself. Somehow they end up looking at his collection of Ketchup Couture, which is just a series of pictures where people have spilled condiments on their clothes. 

Stiles watches him during the passing minutes, leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed, drink long forgotten.

Each time Derek looks over there’s a different look on his face. One second he’s smiling all the way up to his eyes, the next he’s averting his eyes and chewing on his lip, even flaring his nostrils and picking at his nails. 

Derek has no idea what the problem is, and before he can ask, Lydia drags Stiles away to the dance floor, leaving Derek to himself.

They don’t dance together again, but Stiles loops his arm when they leave the club and follows him to the waiting town car.

* * *

 

Stiles remains quiet during the drive back to the bus, but uses the crowded space as an excuse to bury himself in Derek’s side with his heavy arm secure over his shoulder. Everyone stays quiet, save for the two couples making out in their small spaces. 

Stiles closes his eyes and tries not to think of all the nights driving back from a club that he and Derek did the exact same thing. 

Stiles keeps finding himself forgetting that this isn’t like before. Sure, in a way he and Derek are back together, but Derek isn’t “Back” with Stiles because he can’t remember what it was like before. If Stiles is completely honest with himself, he can’t even pretend it’s like it was before. Everything is different. 

Sure, they still fit together perfectly, and mesh in all ways possible. Derek still likes Screwdrivers, crossword puzzles, documentaries, and dozens of other things, but Derek  _ is different. _

Stiles isn’t surprised by this though, it was expected. He knows that Derek lost those years with Stiles where he had changed throughout their relationship, and in a moment of crunching metal on metal, Derek went right back to how he was the day he met Stiles. 

_ Before their relationship.  _

Before Stiles listened to him rant about Kate.

Before Stiles offered a safe place to relax while they were on the road.

Before Stiles encouraged him to think about what he wanted in his future, and supported his dreams no matter how simple or lavish.

Before Stiles showed him how special he was mentally, physically, and emotionally.

Before Stiles showed him what it was like to be  _ loved. _

Derek went back to feeling like a failure, like he couldn’t make anyone happy unless he gave up his own comfort and catered to those around him.

Derek went back to not caring what tomorrow brought, he just wanted everyone to be okay, convinced he only needed those around him to be happy, for him to be happy.

Derek went back to trying to understand why he couldn’t make Kate happy.

Derek went back to feeling like he wasn’t  _ loved. _

Stiles knows that Derek essentially started on a new path after the accident, and in turn began a new life. 

Without Stiles.

Derek made friends that didn’t know about his failures, and only wanted the best for him.

Derek let go of Kate.

Derek let go of the incessant desire to cater to his friends and family.

Derek discovered his love for music now that he wasn’t afraid of Kate trying to market him.

Derek  _ finally _ decided on a future of his choice, and surrounded himself by friends and family who  _ love  _ him.

Derek is  _ different _ .

Yet, somehow,  _ miraculously _ , he found his way back to Stiles.

There were infinite possibilities for Derek once he began on his new path, infinite possibilities for Stiles too as he tried to find his footing in a world without him.

But…

By some miracle, or guardian angel, or act of God, Derek ended up at that show so many months ago with the intention of signing on as their opener for the year.

The floodgates opened and here they are.

Stiles turns his body toward Derek more in the cramped backseat of the SUV and inhales deeply against the soft fabric stretching across Derek’s chest, reminding himself that Derek is still here.

Derek slides his hand along Stiles’ back, almost lulling him to sleep if it weren’t for the swelling storm in his brain. 

Stiles thinks about their night together. 

He hadn’t expected Derek to come back from the hospital so soon, he was sure he would stay at least the night with his mom, and meet them sometime on the road tomorrow. Then he came back and,  _ God _ .

Stiles shivers thinking about how Derek had yanked him into a closet like hundreds of times before, and told him how good he looked on stage, and just  _ demanded _ . Bracketing him in against a door, rough, and feral. 

Stiles should have expected this though. Derek always had a thing for Stiles performing, Derek would spend many nights after they came down from their post orgasmic high, and trace his fingers between all of Stiles’ moles on his back, arms, or face, and tell him all the things about his performance that set him off. 

Stiles misses that.

Then he asked Stiles to come back to the bus with him. 

Stiles knew exactly what was on Derek’s beautiful mind.  _ Sex. _ It’s all that’s on his mind too, but he can’t do that. There would be no recovery from that. So he said the only thing he could think of with all the blood rushing to his dick, and demanding he ignore reason. 

Buzz’s Birthday.

Derek took it well, didn’t argue, or get butt hurt. He just went. He even asked about Buzz, which how fucking cute was that? And so very  _ Derek. _

Stiles couldn’t help smiling, watching Scott and Derek bunched up together and looking through photos. Stiles saw the second it registered on Scott’s face that, he too had forgotten that this wasn’t like old times. 

They were all so close. Best Friends. Scott, Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Stiles, and Derek. Thick as thieves. Stiles never let himself forget that all of his friends lost a friend too because of his stupid mistake, it wasn’t just him who lost someone.

What hurt most about the conversation over Buzz, was that Derek used to know about him, even visited Scott’s house back home and cuddled with him… for hours. And then there he was, without any idea. 

Dancing with Derek was easy, again, like old times. Flirty, fun, and comfortable. Stiles would have danced all night if he could, but he couldn’t ignore what was waiting for him once they made it back to the bus. 

Derek wanted to  _ talk _ .

Sure, he wanted to do something else earlier, but he settled on talking, and Stiles couldn’t tell him no. He knows they need to, they have hours of talking to come, but he’s fucking scared.

He’s afraid that if he opens up even a crack, that the fucking flood gates will open and he will come clean and ruin everything.

He doesn’t know how to find a balance here.

He’s  _ terrified _ .

He must tense up because Derek starts rubbing at his shoulders, and kisses the top of his head. 

Derek whispers into his hair. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles shakes his head against Derek’s chest, not trusting himself to open his mouth.

Derek lets out a long breath through his nose that ruffles Stiles’ hair.. 

Stiles knows that sigh. It’s ‘I know something is wrong, and you're lying to me about it. Now I’m tense too, but I respect you enough not to push. Jackass.’ 

_ That  _ sigh.

Stiles lifts his head and twists to look at Derek with a small smile and plants a soft, chaste kiss to Derek’s thinned lips. Doing his best to wordlessly reassure him that he’s not upset because of anything Derek has done. 

Derek relaxes a little, and Stiles lays his head back down. 

So much is still the same, but everything is different.

* * *

 

Stiles has successfully avoided  _ the talk _ another hour by busying himself around the bus. 

He cleans, cooks, medicates all of his friends to stave off hangovers, and thoroughly clears his notifications that have piled up on his phone. He knows he can’t avoid it forever and feels guiltier every time he looks over at Derek.

Derek doesn’t push, doesn’t remind Stiles, doesn’t pout - nothing. He just sits and waits, engages in conversation and doesn’t make any attempt to go to bed in the hopes that Stiles will eventually settle and talk with him.

It’s when Stiles looks over to see him yawn and scratch at his beard that Stiles caves in. He knows that Derek is starting to worry and feel insecure, like Stiles is avoiding him (because he is) and is trying to comfort himself.

Stiles puts his phone on the charger in his bunk and strips his shirt off to put on a clean one, then grabs Derek’s old leather jacket to throw over his shoulders.

He found it when he was cleaning the bus, and had to make the conscious effort not to start crying and bury his face in the material. Everything was just getting a little too real tonight, and Stiles might have had a little too much to drink at the bar.

Stiles had bought him the jacket when he had accidentally lost Derek’s jacket (that Stiles insisted on borrowing) at some show in Washington. Stiles spent hours digging through the internet for the same jacket, but never found one and settled for the one currently wrapped around Stiles shoulders.

Derek had left it at the hotel when he chased after Kate to apologize and explain after they had been caught, but then he never came back for it.

_ Obviously. _

Stiles walks over to Derek with two tall bottles of water and tips his head toward the door of the bus.

Derek nods and hops to his feet quickly to follow Stiles out the door. 

The first thing Stiles notices is the wind whipping the corners of his jacket, and splaying his hair in all directions. He stops on the steps and leans backwards, balancing against Derek as he reaches for his beanie he hung on the wall while cleaning. 

Derek freezes but holds his weight easily, then laughs at how determined Stiles is to get the knit hat himself. 

Stiles tongue is sticking out through his lips, his eyes are squinting with the strain, and his fingers are just an inch away and twitching with desire. 

Derek shakes his head and reaches back for it, then as Stiles stands to pout at him, because he is sure he could have gotten it himself, Derek slides the soft fabric onto Stiles head. He straightens his hair that sticks out, and pulls the sides down over his ears, then pulls the opening of the leather coat together and zips it up.

Stiles just stands there, letting Derek take care of him, and relishes in the last few good moments they might have. It’s only a matter of minutes before Stiles potentially fucks everything up.

Derek leans forward and flicks his nose across Stiles’ with a sly smile.

Stiles slides a hand forward, and up Derek’s chest to slide up his jaw and hold him just for a moment. He battles his internal instincts to kiss, and push Derek backwards until they hit his bunk, and then take Derek apart piece by piece. That would be far easier than what waits outside the bus. 

Derek closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, still holding the lapels of Stiles jacket. He’s relaxing, letting himself believe that Stiles wants to talk and whatever has him nervous isn’t his fault.

Stiles gives in and tilts his head to kiss Derek. It’s gentle, but thorough, and filthy. If they are about to ruin everything, Stiles tells himself that he needs one last kiss. Just one.

Derek quickly gets into it and pulls Stiles forward, coiling him in his arms and taking a sharp breath through his nose. 

Stiles maps out the entirety of Derek’s mouth, desperate to remember every detail vividly. It’s all too soon when Derek pulls back, forehead still resting against Stiles, and brings reality down on them like an ice shower.

“We really need to talk.” Derek whispers in the space between them, and Stiles pulls back nodding and finally makes his way off the bus. 

Thankfully, the lot is pitch black with a few distant lights glowing. Stiles feels like he’s hiding, and finds comfort in the fact that Derek won’t really be able to see his face if he happens to give anything away. He just has to focus on his mouth.

They stand there for a few beats, and Stiles lights a cigarette, the flame dancing in the wind and going out twice. Stiles tries not to think about how that doesn’t bode well for him.

“So,” Stiles starts, “What do you want to talk about?”

Derek hesitates, “Us?”

“What about us?” Stiles asks as innocently as possible. He needs to follow Derek in this, because if he tries to lead they will both plummet to their death off the highest cliff in the history of ever.

Stiles sees Derek shove his hands into his jacket pockets before he answers with his head low.

“Are we… do you… this is stupid.” Derek lights his own cigarette.

“No.” Stiles reassures softly. “It’s not stupid.” 

Derek looks back toward him, and Stiles suddenly wishes it weren’t so dark so he could see Derek’s eyes, but then Derek would see his and know that he’s hiding things.

“What are you trying to ask me?” Stiles asks.

“Are we going anywhere?” Derek says quietly.

Stiles knows he can deflect, it’s his automatic response to danger, but this is  _ Derek _ . The last thing he wants to do is run away. Stiles must take too long to form a response because Derek goes to clarify.

“I mean, I get it. What happens on tour, can stay on tour, or whatever, but I need to know where you stand. With me.” Derek takes a long drag from his stress stick.

“It’s not like that.” Stiles steps forward, this, this is true. “I have no intention of stopping this.”

“Good.” Derek responds, and Stiles knows he’s smiling. “But what is  _ this _ exactly?”

Stiles thinks for a second, not sure how to explain in anyway that is both truthful and something Derek can understand. Finally he settles on, “Whatever you want it to be.” Because that’s the truth. Stiles will do anything Derek wants. Except sleep with him, because that would be pushing things too far.

Derek nods, and thinks about what he wants to say next. “I want you to trust me.”

Stiles blanches. He does, he trusts Derek with every fibre of his being. “What? I do.” He says firmly.

“No, you don’t.” Derek shakes his head. “Everytime I ask about your past, you shut me down. Whenever I make a move to do  _ more, _ you shut me down, which is fine, but nothing is changing. I need to know where I stand, and you have to talk to me.” Derek finishes, “Please.”

Stiles bites his lip, fighting tears, because Derek is right. Stiles has been fully aware of this truth. They can’t have any kind of relationship without communication. They used to have that, and Stiles isn’t a fool enough to let himself believe that what he and Derek have now is anything like it was then. 

They don’t talk.

They kiss, cuddle, stay close, play shows, sleep on the bus, and occasionally talk about things like music, friends, interests, etc, but never  _ them _ . Whereas before they discussed their relationship, and their feelings, and fears, in detail at every opportunity.

“You’re absolutely right.” Stiles confirms, and Derek visibly sags with relief. “We do need to talk, and I want to,  _ eventually _ .” Stiles drops his head because he’s a coward. “I just can’t yet.”

“What happened to you?” Derek asks, stepping forward. “What can be so bad, that you can’t tell me?”

“I just… Derek, please.” Stiles chokes. “Please don’t make me do this.” Stiles reinforces the dam threatening to collapse in him. 

Derek steps forward all the way and pulls Stiles into his chest. “I won’t. You can trust me. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Stiles sobs once, hating himself for letting Derek take care of him like this, like Stiles is the victim when it’s really Derek. 

Derek’s the victim and Stiles is setting him on fire with his lies.

“Is this about your ex?” Derek asks softly against Stiles’ temple, rubbing strong strokes up Stiles’ back.

Stiles nods, afraid to speak.

Derek pulls Stiles’ face up to his, to look in his eyes, even though they can’t see anything in the dark. “Stiles, whatever he did to you, whatever problems you had, that wasn’t us. That wasn’t me.”

Stiles actually laughs. Right in Derek’s face, through tears, and madness.

Derek jerks back at the assault.

Stiles has to step away and just let the stress of everything rip out of him in the form of manic laughter.

Derek remains motionless.

Stiles tries to reign himself in, feeling guilty. Derek is genuinely trying not to upset him, a stranger in Derek’s mind. Stiles just can’t get over Derek’s choice of words.  _ That wasn’t us. That wasn’t me. _

Derek steps away, finally insulted, tired of trying with someone who has said all of ten words since they made it outside.

Stiles rushes forward, the fear of Derek leaving him overpowering the ridiculousness of the situation. “Derek, wait! I’m sorry!” 

Derek pauses, but doesn’t close the distance between them by an inch. “You think I would hurt you?”

“What?”

“You just laughed when I said I wasn’t like them, like you can’t imagine anyone would be any different. But I  _ am. _ ” Derek huffs. “Dammit, Stiles. I fucking care about you, I don’t ever want to be the reason you’re hurting.”

Stiles sags with the truth in Derek’s words, and feels mountains of guilt crash over him. He does his best to remain in the now and not compare then to now, or how their conversation holds so much more than what Derek can fathom. This is so innocent for him, flat, not complicated. Either Stiles trusts him and opens up about his history, or they can’t be together.

But Stiles can’t open up because then it will all be ruined.

“I know.” Stiles tells him, daring to take a step closer. “I know you would never hurt me on purpose. I know you care about me. I  _ know. _ ” He braves another step praying that Derek doesn’t retreat backwards. “Derek, listen to me. If you don’t hear anything else I say, hear this.”

Derek tilts his head once, and Stiles closes the distance between them to say one of the most honest things he’s told Derek since he came back.

“I  _ care about you. _ With every fibre of my being, I  _ care about you _ .” Stiles hears Derek swallow thickly over the howling wind and can’t stop himself from continuing. “I want to protect you, shield you from anyone who would want to make you feel uncomfortable in the slightest. I want to ease the stress in your brow when you don’t know how to get the answers you want.”

Derek drops his head, and Stiles knows he’s blushing. Before their relationship he wasn’t very good at accepting that some people genuinely wanted him to be okay. 

“I want to keep you to myself. I want to put you on display. I want to watch stupid documentaries for days and never leave the couch. I want to pick up newspapers so you can do the crossword. I want to make your nasty ass screwdrivers every single day. I want to complain about the hair in the sink, or using the last of the soap, or that you should put the fucking computer away and come to bed because accounting is not sexy.” Okay, that was a slip. Stiles tries to cover it by rambling some more. “I want  _ you, Derek.  _ More than I have ever wanted someone. I just can’t tell you about my past yet. It’s not the right time, and don’t worry about what they did to me. It’s what I did, mostly.” Stiles swallows thickly. “When I tell you my secrets that only a handful of people know, you are going to see me differently, and I’m fucking scared.”

Derek shakes his head. “It’s in the past, Stiles. I couldn’t judge who you are now, for something you did before I even met you.

“You don’t understand.” Stiles bites his lip.

Derek throws his hands in the air, “Of course I don’t understand, you won’t fucking tell me!”

“I know, and I told you I was sorry, I’m trying to explain.” Stiles pleads, counting down the seconds before Derek walks away because he’s a basket case.

Derek grunts. “I know.”

“Do you trust me?” Stiles asks, afraid of the answer.

“I’m trying to.” Derek admits.

“I promise you, I am doing  _ everything  _ I can not to hurt you. I’m protecting you as best I can from a shitstorm otherwise known as my life.” 

Derek doesn’t say anything, he actually steps back an inch. His head turning away. 

He doesn’t believe him.

Stiles says the one thing that has been swirling around in his head, the one thing he wishes he had said more, the one thing he has imagined saying again if ever got another chance, from the second Derek woke up in the hospital without his memories.

“ _ I love you, Derek _ .” 

Derek freezes, and turns to look at Stiles. Even though they can’t fucking see each other, Stiles knows his eyes are the size of saucers. 

“I know you think it’s soon, and we haven’t really done anything, but I fucking  _ love you, Derek. _ That is why I am so scared of messing this up, okay? Please, God, don’t leave me  _ again _ .” Stiles chokes on the last word, and realizes he’s crying. For how long, he has no idea.

“Again?” Derek asks, almost inaudibly.

Stiles shakes his head, covering his traitorous mouth, and tries to run. He gets about fifteen feet before he hears footsteps following quickly behind him and Derek calling out to him.

“Stiles, Stop!”

Stiles can’t believe he let that slip. Fuck.  _ Fuck! FUCK!  _ This is exactly why he was so fucking scared to talk to Derek. He’s not fucking stable.

Derek catches him by the back of his jacket and turns him around. “Stiles.” He’s panting from sprinting after him. 

Stiles looks and can see the faint glow from behind Erica’s window and realizes he ran pretty fucking far, where the fuck was he even going to go? “I’m sorry.” Stiles says, trying to figure out how to end the situation. 

Derek cuts in, “No, stop apologizing. I should be sorry.”

Stiles looks at him, and for the first time since they came outside, he can actually see him. In their short run they came to stand under the glow of the once distant lights. “Wha-” Stiles starts to ask, only now seeing the pain in Derek’s eyes, the shame. Which is so very wrong, and Stiles hates himself even more.

“Stiles, listen. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard to talk to me, you clearly have some shit to deal with, and it’s none of my business, and it doesn’t matter. Don’t tell me, it’s okay.”

“Derek-”

“No, it’s really okay. None of it matters, it doesn’t matter what happened, or who left you, or who hurt you, or how.” Derek levels his eyes with Stiles, begging for forgiveness. “All that matters is we care about each other, and that I’m  _ not going anywhere _ .” 

Stiles rubs at his nose, all cognitive thought failing him.

“Stiles, I won’t leave you.”

Stiles nods, and Derek pulls him in and kisses Stiles fiercely. Trying to wipe all the pain from Stiles’ mind.

Stiles collapses against Derek, because  _ this _ he can do. Kissing Derek is easy. It’s the talking that’s hard. Stiles buries his hands in Derek’s hair and hold him hostage. He had genuinely thought the kiss on the stairs of the bus would be his last.

Stiles expects Derek’s hands to wander as things heat up, but his arms remain tight around his lower back, and there is absolutely no Derek Jr. asking for attention. 

Derek just wants Stiles to feel better, and to reassure him that he isn’t going anywhere, because by some miracle that doesn’t actually surprise Stiles, Derek thought the ‘ _ again’  _ was referring to some other guy leaving him, and didn’t take it at face value.

Stiles finds himself shivering in Derek’s arms, from the cold, and adrenaline.

Derek notices and releases Stiles’ lips to lead them back to the bus. 

Stiles seals his lips shut, terrified of saying one more stupid thing, and guilty…  _ oh so fucking guilty. _ He knows he’s not the victim here, Derek is the victim, and everyone down to his own mother is lying to him. Stiles is fooling himself to think there will ever be a  _ right _ time to come clean.

There’s a clock on their new relationship riddled with landmines and a single wrong step will blow it to oblivion.

All over again.

Stiles climbs into his bunk, still wrapped in Derek’s old coat, needing the extra comfort for what he expects to be a fitful night.

What he doesn’t expect is Derek to climb in the bunk behind him.

Stiles flips his head back, and his face must express his shock pretty clearly because Derek freezes.

“I can... “ He slides back down from the bunk.

“No!” Stiles calls in the small space. “I just… I thought you were going to…” Stiles swallows scooting closer to the wall to allow Derek more room. “Come on, I want you with me.” 

Derek doesn’t argue and climbs in behind him again, and wraps an arm around him, the old worn leather sighs below his bicep. “This jacket’s a little big, don’t you think?”

Stiles smiles, “I think it looks good on me.”

“It does.” Derek grins against his ear, and they both fall asleep shortly after.

* * *

 

_ Derek makes his way back to his hotel room with a basket of freshly dried laundry , and checks his phone for the time.  _

_ He should be back any minute now, and Derek wanted to shower first but he’s running out of time. _

_ When he opens his hotel door with a keycard he sees the faceless man he’s seen so many times before, and only now realizes he’s dreaming. He begs himself not to wake up.  _

_ “Hey, Cutes.” The man greets him with his head tilted to the side as he empties his pockets. _

_ Derek sets the basket down and makes his way forward to kiss the man on the neck making him giggle. It’s gentle, and full of smiles. _

_ “Jacket’s a little big, don’t you think?” Derek asks, pulling at the leather on the guy’s arm before turning to walk away and put the clean laundry away in their bags. He realizes he feels a little bitter, but has no idea why. _

_ The man clicks his tongue behind him, and Derek turns around to raise an eyebrow at him. _

_ “I think it looks good on me.” He pulls at the bottom of the jacket so Derek can get a better view. _

_ “It does.” Derek agrees, stubbornly. _

_ The man slinks forward, and even though Derek can’t see his face, he knows he’s smirking. _

_ “Too bad I won’t get to wear it much.” He pouts. _

_ Derek shakes his head confused. “Why not?” _

_ The guy taps Derek’s nose, “Because it’s yours, silly.” _

_ Derek blinks at him, but feels the irritations ebb away. _

_ The guy slowly unzips the leather, and slides it off his shoulders to wrap around Derek’s. Adjusting the leather so it all lays right. “It’s to replace the one I lost in Washington, I tried sooo fucking hard to find the same one, dude, but it was impossible!” The guy sighs and steps back to admire his purchase on his boyfriend. “So, I had to find another one that would look just as good, and, damn, did I do a good job.” He whistles dramatically, looking Derek up and down. _

_ Derek laughs and lunges forward to grab his lover and make sure they know just how happy he is to have someone who loves him as much as he loves them. Someone who goes out of their way to make sure he’s okay. Someone who cares that they lost some thrift store jacket that didn’t mean anything to him in the first place. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter moved this story in a massive way, like we have reached a critical point. The closer I get to... things... the more nervous I get because I don't want to fuck it up. lol.
> 
> Anywho, as always, I appreciate every singe one of you and all the comments, kudos, etc, keep me going. :D
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/) Please feel free to yell at me about how stupid these boys are!
> 
> Luh ya, cuties!


	13. It’s like fourteen carats but no clarity.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterek is real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer one than normal, so strap in!  
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

The morning after Stiles and Derek talk, Stiles had to climb over Derek out of the bunk to get ready for an early interview before they head to the next venue.

After the interviewer has hounded Isaac about his lack of a love life, Lydia about her flirtations with Jackson, and Scott about his relationship with management, Stiles knows it’s only a matter of minutes before they turn their focus to him.

This is how it always goes. The interviewer will drag little bits of information out of the band before settling on the most scandalous, or juiciest piece of intrigue. 

Stiles is getting sick of always being that target. 

Stiles isn’t an idiot, he’s seen his twitter feed fill with anything and everything,  _ Sterek _ . He also will never admit how often he goes through them, because he’s a lovesick fool, and the fan photos and videos show him what he can’t personally see from where he participates. 

Stiles might just be in love with the way he looks at Derek without even realizing it. 

Even before their talk last night, Stiles had started noticing his constant sporting of  _ heart eyes _ every time Derek is within hearing distance of him. He had worried about it, and tried to rid his face of adoration for awhile, but he wasn’t successful in the least.

Stiles considers last night to be a good thing, if for nothing else than he can release his grip on his expressions and just look at Derek freely, because apparently they were a thing now? Stiles was afraid to ask Derek, but as far as he’s concerned they are… _ a thing. _

“So, Stiles.” The interviewer finally addresses him. “Sterek. It’s the real deal?”

Stiles makes a dramatic ‘I dunno’ face, and shrugs. Even though everyone knows that it’s blowing up among fans, journalists, and critics. 

It’s everywhere.

The man turns around and points to the screen behind him where they play a fan video of  _ Allie  _ from the night before and Stiles feels the blood work it’s way up his chest and into his cheeks. 

The video shows him blushing, lips parted, and eyes distant as Derek caressed his arms. It shows the pure look of lust on Stiles’ face when Derek brought the shirt up around his neck. How he sounded like he had just came right there on the stage as he sang through the ordeal.

It was pretty  _ damning _ , to say the least.

Then they show pictures from the club, with Derek grinding down on Stiles’ thigh, and Stiles twerking in front of him with Derek’s eyes glued to his ass. 

Somehow, cameras caught everything. 

Stiles is a little surprised by this because before, Kate and Argent Records had their entire team working around the clock to rid the internet of any evidence of Stiles’ and Derek’s relationship. Even after everything, when Stiles went a little crazy and damn near had to go to rehab, they hid all true evidence. 

Stiles expected, at least a little, hush hush over their new relationship. Stiles ignores the worry wiggling in the back of his mind, because he realizes now just how quiet Kate has been the past few months. He can’t even remember the last time he saw her in passing. 

Then they show,  _ drum roll please _ , a kiss. 

No denying it after that.

_ Shit _ .

“So, Sterek?” The guy asks again, knowing he holds all the cards to win this game.

Stiles face heats further and he looks to his friends for assistance, but none is offered. “Uh, yea. I guess.” Stiles scratches at his chin, unable to think of any way to  _ deny, deny, deny _ . “It’s  _ delicate _ , but yea.”

He and Derek hadn’t really talked about labels or anything the night before, but they were definitely a thing. Stiles still feels guilty that he couldn’t give him more of a  _ talk _ , but rest assured, he is working on a plan to tell Derek the  _ truth _ ,  _ finally. _ Just not today… or tomorrow… it’s to be determined, but there’s a plan, ok?

The screen flips back to a particularly damning photo from the show with the shirt wrapped around Stiles neck, and a heated feral look rolling off Derek, and a completely wanton look radiating from Stiles. 

Stiles kind of wants that picture.

No,  _ really _ wants that picture.

“Yea…  _ delicate _ .” The guy laughs.

“Behave!” Stiles points, smiling through his embarrassment, only growing darker as each second ticks by.

Stiles briefly thinks back to how he wished every day before the accident that when asked in an interview if he was in a relationship, he could answer truthfully. All he ever wanted was to scream Derek’s name from the top of his lungs, and make sure everyone knew that they were each others, and no one else’s. But now that Stiles can, he’s afraid. What if Derek doesn’t want that now? 

“That was the night he missed the concert, right? I’m sure we can all understand that the time apart might have made you two a little more-”

“STOP!” Stiles chokes, lunging to cover the guy’s mouth, almost knocking Isaac off his stool beside him, and falling flat on his face himself. 

Isaac is a bro though, and catches him easily by the waist and holds him across his lap while Stiles mashes his palm against the pushy interviewer’s mouth.

Everyone is laughing at this point and Stiles doesn’t really know what his life is anymore.

Derek is going to flip when he sees this.

* * *

 

Derek is alone in his and Stiles bunk (because it’s theirs, okay?) while Stiles is at the interview with the rest of his band. He buries his face in Stiles’ pillow as he tries not to panic over the events of the night before, and the fact that he doesn’t know what to do with himself when Stiles is away.

Stiles gave him more than enough reason to call it quits (more like abort mission before anything even started) last night, anyone else would have. They would have seen his carousel of baggage that he so clearly carries around and have sprinted the other way, Derek is ashamed to say he almost did. 

He couldn’t though. 

Whatever it is about Stiles, whatever makes Derek feel grounded, and like he can take on anything,  _ whatever it is - _ he can’t walk away. 

Stiles had said he  _ loved him. _

Derek is trying to convince himself that he heard him wrong, there’s no way, but he said it. 

_ Over, and over again.  _

Stiles may not have talked about his past like Derek was hoping, but he did so much  _ more _ . 

He confessed to Derek just how deeply he felt for him, and in detail. He couldn’t have been using it as a distraction to avoid talking about his past, because the things he said, why he loved him, had clearly been established and thought about well before their talk.

He told him how he wanted to protect him, ease his worry, keep him to himself, but still show him off. How he wanted to argue over stupid domestic things, as though Stiles isn’t just thinking toward the end of the tour, but thinking about  _ after _ . 

Derek is terrified, but feels as though his heart is going to explode with the new information. 

Derek can’t remember the last time he felt  _ loved.  _

Derek has spent some time really thinking about that, about if Stiles actually loves him, and he can’t help but believe him. 

Stiles has indirectly been confessing his love to Derek since the minute they met. 

Derek knows that’s dramatic, there’s no way Stiles knew if he would love Derek back on that trailer taking shots and chatting it up with a stranger, but all the little things since that day have made Derek fall for him as Stiles apparently fell for him.

Derek can’t remember the last time someone  _ genuinely  _ cared about him like Stiles so clearly does. This is nothing like what he had with Kate. He’s not even sure he has ever felt this before, to be honest. 

Derek rolls over and sees the jacket that Stiles was wearing the night before, and buries his nose into that next. Hoping Stiles’ scent will ground him while he’s away.

He scolds himself internally because he is a strong, independent, man who don’t need no man, and shouldn’t be clinging to a scrap of leather afraid the ground will swallow him up if he’s alone for too long.

He tells himself that the only reason he’s so  _ needy _ is because the ground that they stand on is shaky, and any second the floor beneath them will give way. 

He briefly remembers the man in his dream. 

He lets the feeling of being truly cared for, and secure in a relationship sweep over him. That’s all he wants. He wants to wake up in the morning, roll over, see the object of his affections, and know without a doubt that they aren’t going anywhere. That is the world came crashing in, they could stand strong knowing the other was right beside them.

Last night, the faceless man was wearing a very similar jacket, if not the same jacket Stiles had been wearing the night before.

Derek wonders if these dreams are just a way his brain has been pushing him toward Stiles this whole time. They started up shortly after they met, and maybe it’s just his subconscious telling him what he wants, and fantasizing about what he and Stiles could have.

Derek groans and rolls out of bed, confused, lonely, and a little thirsty.

Boyd is sitting at the small table typing furiously at his computer, and his brow is crunched in frustration. 

Derek knows that look.

“What happened now?” Derek asks pouring a cup of coffee, another indication of Boyd’s current state, and settles on the other side of the table.

Boyd doesn’t look up and shakes his head, the corners of his lips sagging. 

“Kids?” Derek asks, already knowing the answer.

Boyd closes his eyes, his fingers pausing momentarily in a moment of silence.

“Damn.” Derek settles.

Boyd hasn’t been writing for his paper too much these last few months, because they are exhausted  _ all the time, _ but they have kept him on because he’s one of the best journalists they have. 

He’s passionate about every piece he writes, and never writes a ‘Filler’ article, everything he submits means a great deal to him, and Derek can’t recall a single time that the editor refused one of his submissions. 

Derek likes to believe he knows his friend’s tells when he’s working on something, and yet again, Derek impresses himself with his observational skills, but he can’t celebrate because of the reality of the situation.

Derek stays quiet, letting Boyd punch out as much as he can through his words while the emotions burn through him. Derek refills both of their coffee cups and brings out his laptop to download some videos and movies for their drive across the state today.

After another ten minutes, Boyd’s hands still and he reaches for his coffee, letting a deep sigh escape through his nose. 

Derek continues to wait, Boyd will fill him in as soon as the raging storm eases in his brain.

“It was a school.” Boyd finally says.

Derek looks up to see the same sadness in Boyd’s eyes that he’s sure reflects in his.

“It’s been overlooked because it’s in the middle east, and not here in our back yard.” Boyd slams his cup on the table. “ _ Children,  _ Derek.” 

Derek nods his understanding.

“ _ All's fair in war,  _ right?” Boyd mocks. “Disgusting.” 

Derek watches the rage bubble its way back toward the surface, or more accurately down his arms and to the tips of his fingers.

“I mean, we all sit here, in safety, but a  _ fucking school was just obliterated! _ ” Boyd’s eyes glass over. “They were just kids fighting for an education, hoping for the war to stop, hoping to grow up and support their families, hoping to make it out of there alive. And we just blew them up.”

Derek nods his empathy, and stands to go clean up when Boyd returns to the keyboard in a fit of aggression.

Derek washes himself the best he can in the small bathroom, still killing time until the others return for them to start their trek across another state line. 

One thing Derek has learned about life on the road, is that no matter how much you spray, sanitize, or clean, the bus will  _ always _ smell like dirty laundry. Derek goes around, opening all the windows to air out the bus a little, and picks up trash, and laundry. Stuffing both into separate garbage bags to try and seal away the stench.

Boyd is the only one on the bus with Derek, Erica and Jackson are probably out shopping, and Derek takes the opportunity to strip everyone’s bunks and make them with fresh sheets. He sprays them all down with febreeze heavily. 

Derek made a point to buy all the cleaning supplies he could get his hands on, and took over the hall closet to fill with his febreeze, windex, lysol wipes, detergent, everything he could possible need to clean up. He even bought a couple boxes of Tampons and pads for the girls, because he grew up with women and has no problem putting forward a little effort to comfort them during tough times.

He cleans all surfaces with disinfectant, and wipes down windows, doors, and handles thoroughly. 

He opens a closet to store away a few instruments that had been left lying around when he chokes and throws the door shut, bracing his back against it incase the offensive smell tries to get out now that it has been exposed to the rest of the world.

He shakes his head, he’s being ridiculous, and slowly turns around, holding a rag over his mouth and nose, and opens the closet again.

There is a mountain of clothes reaching the height of his shoulders, and food wrappers, and God knows what else. He decides this is not a job for bare hands and quickly retrieves a set of bright yellow gloves from the closet in the hall, before sifting through the mountain to bag them up in scented garbage bags, because they needed all the help they could get.

He washes the closet down thoroughly when done, and writes a bold note that he pins to the door with a tack.

_ This IS NOT a hamper.  _ __  
_ Turn around, and walk away. _ __  
_ You filthy animal. _ _  
_ **_\- Derek_ **

He signs it because he’s fucking serious. 

Standing back, he deems the back room clean, almost looking untouched, and carries the bags of trash and laundry down the hall to drop with the others by the front stairs. He gathers the rest, making sure the bus looks as good as it can, then makes his way down the stairs to throw out the five bags of garbage, and load the dozen laundry bags into the trailer to get them as far away from the bus as he can.

When he climbs back up the stairs onto the bus he stops and looks around amazed by his own handiwork. The bus looks almost like it did the first day they all climbed on to start the tour.

Boyd offers an appreciative smile before going back to his laptop. 

Derek finds himself thinking about about Boyd’s article again. 

As children we are raised to believe in  _ America the Brave,  _ but then you start to see things that your young optimistic heart just can’t understand, and soon reality sinks in like a lead pipe through the chest.

Derek wishes he could go back to the days where the most he worried about was if he could have an extra cookie at snack time.

Now, he not only worries about the youth of America, but he’s plagued with the  _ what if’s _ of his and Stiles’ relationship. Before he heads too far down that worrisome path, Erica and Jackson climb onto the bus behind him.

They both look around in awe at the state of the bus. Derek almost laughs at how Jackson looks back toward the door afraid he got on the wrong bus somehow.

“Let’s try and keep it this way, okay?” Derek tells them before heading to the back of the bus, to play some Call of Duty. 

Erica and Jackson follow him silently, rightfully guilty of their filth. 

Erica cues up the game and Jackson lounges across from them on one of the sofa’s to silently stare at his phone.

Derek reminds himself that he can function just fine on his own without Stiles nearby, he’s done it for 27 years now and he can make it a few more hours.

* * *

 

Derek hears the door to the bus open, and the bus’ engine starts up a fraction of a second later. They all stumble onto the bus, just as rowdy as any other time. Derek smiles as he listens to them scatter throughout the bus and settle in as the bus pushes forward. 

He doesn’t miss the string of questions, and sound of awe at how clean their bus is. Derek fights a prideful smile.

When Stiles doesn’t immediately appear in front of Derek like always, he looks away from the screen to see if he can spot Stiles making himself a snack or something. He finds him standing in the opening to the back lounge area, leaned against the door jam, arms crossed, and smiling down at Derek.

Derek tilts his head, inviting him over to sit because he wants him closer, but Stiles pushes himself off the wall and walks back toward the front of the bus. He doesn’t have long to question why he walked away before Stiles comes back through with his lyric journal and acoustic guitar. 

Stiles holds up the guitar to Erica, “Will this bother you?” He freezes, ready to take his guitar back.

Derek notices that Stiles has been extra careful around Erica lately, and it saddens Derek to think that one of his best friends can’t get along with him.

“Nope, not at all.” Erica clips, not looking away from the video game. “Just don’t sit behind me.”

Stiles smiles and makes his way toward Derek, winking. “Damn, foiled again.” 

Erica lets out a small giggle, and flips her hair as she returns her focus to the screen to annihilate the enemy, AKA Derek.

Stiles plants himself behind Derek’s shoulders on the sofa crossing his legs, and Derek tries his best not to close the distance between them (and just short of rub his body all over Stiles) and settles for the heat radiating from Stiles knee beside his ear. 

Derek focuses on the task at hand, which is lasting as long as he can against Erica.

* * *

 

Stiles settles in, guitar propped in his lap, notebook beside him, and Derek breathing the same air as him. 

It’s  _ perfect _ .

Stiles thinks back on all the times he and Derek shared this back room on the bus and did similar things. Derek was still attending college then through online courses and spent his time adjusting spreadsheets, instead of trying (and failing) to beat Erica at a video game. He always sat on the floor propped against the sofa because he felt he could balance better on the moving bus that way.

Derek would sit in the floor and lean against Stiles’ knees and work, while Stiles sat behind him and trolled social media, answered emails, played with Derek’s hair and watched as he expertly manipulated the excel sheet, or would write music like he plans to now.

They were in this exact spot when Stiles blew Derek the first time. 

Stiles was being a little shit because he wanted Derek’s attention on him, and only him. He started the conversation as innocently as possible, asking why Derek chose accounting to which Derek had responded ‘Because I’m good at it.’ and Stiles being the sarcastic little prick he is taunted Derek by saying ‘Well, I’m good at giving head, but I’m not a porn star.’ It was only minutes later that Derek’s attention was solely on Stiles, and one thing led to another. After that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. 

Stiles sighs thinking about that night. What a glorious night it had been.

Stiles’ phone goes off a little later while he’s lost in thought remembering all his times in the back of the bus with Derek. He opens it to find he has an email from Boyd’s paper that he works for. They started a website shortly after he went on the road, hoping to pull more readers if they joined the 21st century, and Stiles subscribed to all articles that Boyd releases.

Stiles opens it up and starts reading.

His heart shatters into a million and one pieces.

* * *

 

Derek has lost five games in less than an hour with Erica, and has resorted to hiding from her versus actually going up against her. It’s become an outlast game. He seriously considers quitting, but he just wants to win one, okay? 

It just gets more and more difficult the longer he listens to Stiles hum, mumble, and pluck at his guitar. Currently, Stiles is scratching something into his journal, and Derek can hear the lead grate across the paper with how tuned in he is to the man behind him.

“[Have you ever wanted to disappear?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gju6ZLCX5Xg) ” Stiles hums, plucking the strings quickly, trying to decide if he likes it. “ _ And join a monastery…” _

Derek hears Stiles write something else down and then the wet clack of him biting down on the pencil as he strums the previous chords again.

“ _ Guh oud n pweach un Munic Schweet? _ ” Stiles slurs through the pencil lodged between his teeth.

Derek finally puts the controller down and turns his body to look up at Stiles on the couch, curiosity at it’s peak.

Stiles looks up at the movement, his eyes glazed over and unfocused, then when he realizes Derek is staring at him he blinks and drops the pencil out of his mouth. “Hmm?” He asks, licking his lips where the pencil was.

“What?” Derek asks.

“Did you say something?” Stiles blinks, picking up his dropped pencil between his legs.

Derek laughs, shaking his head. “No.”

Stiles’ mouth drops in a silent question.

“What are you working on?” Derek asks tapping on the page at Stiles’ hip.

Stiles drums his fingers across the body of the guitar, and Derek watches Stiles slowly settle back onto the ground. 

When Stiles is in his creative head space, he quite literally spaces out. 

Derek sort of enjoys watching Stiles come back down to reality, it’s cute. Sue him.

Stiles picks up his notepad and clears his throat, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. “I don’t really know.”

Derek looks at him, and waits for Stiles to figure it out.

Stiles finally decides on what he wants to say. “Don’t judge me, but I subscribed to Boyd’s articles through the paper’s website, and they released one today that really  _ hit  _ me.” He rubs at his chest, clearing his throat.  “And I’m kind of writing a song?… maybe?.. I don’t know.” The pen ends up back in his mouth as he reads over his few lines on the page, his knee bouncing under the guitar.

Derek doesn’t know how to respond. 

He hadn’t even subscribed to Boyd’s work, but that could be because Boyd’s articles often make him sad, which is fine, but he’ll gladly sit back and get the cliff notes from Boyd himself like this morning. Boyd has a way with words, and Derek can only imagine how intense the article had been.

Erica turns at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. “What are you doing with his article?”

The pencil drops from Stiles mouth again, startled by the sharp edge of Erica’s words. “Nothing, I mean, I- I just read it, and it… inspired me?” Stiles stumbles, trying not to upset Erica.

Derek wants to push her over. 

“So you think that just because you  _ were so generous in helping us out,  _ that you now own our creations?” She snarks, pausing the game.

“What?” Stiles blinks looking around for help, but right now it’s just Erica, Derek, and Jackson in the back area. Stiles doesn’t have his friends to help him out. “No!”

Derek reaches out toward Erica because she’s being ridiculous. “Hey, lay off, it’s not like that.”

Stiles coughs, moving to look at Erica straight on. “I understand that you don’t trust me, you’ve made that clear, and I am doing my best not to offend you, but I don’t  _ plagiarize _ . I understand that you are looking out for your boyfriend, because I would be too. But this is not theft.” Stiles points at the paper. “This is called inspiration. Look it up.”

Erica flips her hair, eyes narrowing on her newest enemy. “You really wanna do this?”

Stiles lifts his chin, standing his ground, as Derek watches from the floor ready to lunge between the two if Erica’s claws come out, and actually nervous to see Stiles engage in a bitch battle with Erica. Derek still doesn’t really know what Stiles is like when he’s angry.

“Do what?” Boyd asks walking into the back room with them, plopping down on the sofa in front of them.

Erica turns to him, “Stiles is turning your article into a song.”

“Oh, cool. What’s the angle?” Boyd asks leaning forward clasping his hands together as he looks across to Stiles.

Stiles smirks at Erica before turning to Boyd. “I was thinking youth, but more adolescent and trying to make sense of war, politics, and adulthood?” Stiles shakes his head, “I don’t know. I only have the ideas I want to portray and like three lines that I actually like.”

Boyd nods, thinking.

Erica simmers in her irritation, just waiting for Boyd to confirm that he’s insulted so that she can tear Stiles to shreds.

Jackson is still leaning quietly against the corner of the couch across the room beside Boyd watching everything with a cynical disposition.

Derek sits there grinning to himself because Boyd is intrigued, and Stiles may have just made a new best friend.

Boyd sucks his cheeks, then looks up at Stiles again. “What if you just focus on college kids, that age group, that environment?”

Stiles tilts his head, getting on board with wherever Boyd is taking them. 

Boyd clarifies. “Because you know, a lot happens during that first year, like you said - they have to make sense of a lot of things.” 

Stiles scratches behind his ear, looking at Boyd and sliding a finger along the highest chord of his guitar, making it hum.

Jackson finally joins in on the conversation. “I did a lot of drugs in college?”

Boyd and Erica laugh, shaking their heads at the errant thought.

“No,” Stiles looks over at Jackson, tipping his pencil in his direction. “That’s a good point.”

Boyd watches as Stiles chews through his brain for a train of thought to sink his teeth into. 

Stiles goes back to scribbling in his journal, and taps at his phone to read something quickly.

Derek and his friends exchange a few confused looks, but Derek knows this is just part of Stiles’ creative process by now.

Finally, Stiles claps his hands. “Benzedrine. Are any of you familiar with it?”

Boyd is the only one who instantly jumps on board with where Stiles has been going. “That’s great too, because it was used in World War II and the Vietnam War, so it’ll tie things together really well.” Boyd pauses, thinking again. “Upper or a downer?”

“Both.” Stiles smiles.

Jackson huffs, pushing himself forward to join the circle. “What the fuck is Benzedrine?”

Derek thanks Jackson for asking the same question he was thinking, because he has no idea what it is.

Stiles answers, scratching at his ear. “It’s an amphetamine, commonly used in ADHD medication, and a few other things, but college kids love uppers and it’s a common drug among campuses.”

“But,” Boyd cuts in, “Benzedrine isn’t common anymore, but it ties back to the wars because it was used by the soldiers on the front line to keep them alert, which makes it perfect for the direction of his song because it ties the two together.”

“Oh, nu’uh.” Stiles scoffs, “ _ Our _ song.” He winks at Boyd.

Boyd shakes his head, “No, that’s okay, you started it.”

“Come on.” Stiles hums, dragging Boyd in with a smile.

A small smile creeps across Boyd’s cheeks, and finally he nods. “Yea, if you’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” Stiles smiles. “Anyone else wanna get in on this action?” Stiles asks to the group.

Erica hesitates but soon follows Jackson out of the room to grab their instruments. 

Derek feels weird, just sitting there and watching all of his friends interact, but it just warms him. To see them bicker, and discuss things, and now they’re really going to work together. 

Boyd leans forward and pulls two drumsticks from a bag to tap on his knees. “What do you have?” He asks Stiles.

At that moment, Erica and Jackson return with their instruments, and Scott follows close behind, peeking his head through the curtain to find Stiles, “Jam sesh?” He asks with glittering eyes.

Boyd points a drumstick at Scott. “Working on a song, wanna join?”

“Uh, yeah?!” Scott laughs dashing away. He comes back with both Lydia and Isaac on his heels.

Boyd catches the three up on what they missed, and Stiles takes the opportunity to look down at Derek.

Derek smiles up at him, pulling his hand down to bump his nose against.

Stiles moves the guitar to the side and leans forward over his knees to kiss Derek, then winks and settles back in with his legs crossed and guitar firmly in place.

Derek’s still new to writing music so he doesn’t go to get an instrument and just sits to listen to everyone work around him. Who knows, maybe he’ll learn something.

“So,” Stiles starts, “This is what I have.  _ Have you ever wanted to disappear?” _ Stiles strums the chords he had been playing with earlier. “ _ Join a Monastery, go out and preach on Manic Street?” _

The group start playing his sound on their instruments, finding complementary melodies to go with his, Stiles changes his a few times as they all start working together. 

Stiles mumbles to himself then tries a line a little louder, “ _ It feels like fourteen carats but no clarity.” _

“I like that.” Boyd agrees, and Stiles scribbles it down. “Sing that again, but keep playing.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow, but does as he’s told, the others playing with him. “ _ It feels like fourteen carats but no clarity.” _

Boyd jumps in, “ _ When I look at the man who would be king. _ ”

“Fuck, yes!” Stiles reaches forward for a high five and Boyd returns it, smiling. 

Derek tries his best to follow the direction of the song, how they are coming up with the lines, but he’s sort of, no,  _ extremely  _ confused.

Boyd sings a few more lines, a little lost with the tune but the words ring loudly in Derek’s ears giving him chills. “ _ Goes to the desert, the same war his dad rehearsed, came back with flags on coffins and said, ‘We won.’” _

Stiles goes back over it, ironing out the vocals as best he can, and Erica scooches close to the group focusing on finding a base line that fits the song. “ _ It feels like fourteen carats but no clarity. When I look at the man who would be king, the man who would be king. Goes to the desert, the same war his dad rehearsed, came back with flags on coffins and said, ‘We won. Oh, we won!”  _ Stiles carries the last note, feeling the words that he and Boyd just created. 

Derek finally feels what the song is about. The imagery hard to ignore.

Jackson’s high timbre comes in, quietly singing to himself, “ _ Give me a pen! Call me, Mr. Benzedrine. But don't let the doctor in, I wanna blow off steam.”  _  He looks nervously around the room hoping the others didn’t laugh at him and Stiles nods, plucking out a new tune singing it over with Jackson as they agree, then Stiles writes the lines down.

Derek notices how everyone is deferring to Stiles, allowing him to make creative choices and approve or deny their additions. It’s not that Stiles demands that kind of respect, but they all know that he’s been doing this a lot longer than them, and clearly has some idea of what he’s doing. They must all be taking this as a chance to learn something.

Derek smiles, only able to imagine all the different thought processes going on, but all still so attuned to their creation that they understand exactly where everything is going. Derek wishes he could be as involved. He only understands after hearing it over and over. 

He understands that the subject of the song wants to escape, and run away from things that can hurt them. He understands that they are afraid of the one calling the shots, that everyone trusts because they fit the profile, but that trusted individual sends their friends and family to battle only to die. And now with Jackson’s addition, he understands that it’s a cry for release, for a distraction from what surrounds them.

Derek is understanding.

“ _ Who will I be when I wake up next to a stranger on a passenger plane?”  _ Lydia sings, playing a few keys on her tablet’s keyboard because it’s easier than carrying a whole keyboard into the small crowded space.

Derek feels bad for forgetting about Stiles’ friends who are also working on this song, he’s just been so wrapped up in watching his friends work with Stiles.

“ _ Passenger Plane.”  _ Isaac echoes at Lydia, flashing a dimple.

Scott taps away with his drumsticks, “Stiles, what about Jet Lag? Can we work that in?”

Stiles squints, trying to understand where Scott is heading with it.

“When we were kids, you always said you got jet lag if you missed a dose.” Scott shrugs.

Derek looks to Stiles who is chewing at his lip, and Derek files this new bit of information away. Apparently, Stiles had ADHD as a kid?

“ _ Permanent Jet Lag…”  _ Stiles hums over and over, finding chords that fit the song. 

Which Derek is beyond lost, he just doesn’t understand the process. How do people write songs? This is  _ insane! _

“I’m so lost, guys.” Erica shakes her head, rubbing her bangs out of her face.

Stiles looks down at his paper, reading the sets of lines they have so far and they all arrange them into some sort of order and try to sing it over.

Stiles starts, “ _ Have you ever wanted to disappear? Join a monastery, go out and preach on manic street?” _

Lydia slides in, “ _ Who will I be when I wake up next to a stranger on a passenger plane?”  _

_ “Passenger plane.”  _ Isaac echoes again.

They pause for a second then all start on the chorus they agreed on. “ _ Call me, Mr. Benzedrine.”  _ Jackson sings proudly. “ _ But don’t let the Doctor in, I wanna blow off steam.” _

Stiles comes in, everyone expecting to move to the new verse, and he closes his eyes, the desperation bleeding through his features, and Derek finally  _ feels _ the song. “ _ But don’t let the doctor! Don’t let the doctor in!”  _

They all nod, approving the add on, and start the second verse. 

Boyd sings along with Stiles. “ _ It’s like fourteen carats but no clarity, when I look at the man who would be king, the man who would be king.”  _

Stiles stops singing, and Boyd sings the most important contribution to the song. 

“ _ Goes to the desert, the same war his dad rehearsed, came back with flags on coffins and said, ‘We won.” _

_ “Oh, we won!”  _ Stiles cries. Then they all sing the chorus again.

“Okay, so where do we plug the jet lag?” Erica asks, finally seeing the song as a whole.

Lydia muses, “We don’t have a bridge?” 

Derek muses over how he felt earlier in the day, after Boyd had told him about the bombing. “Stiles.” 

Stiles startles, not expecting Derek to speak, and Derek almost feels bad about that. 

“Sing the line about Jet lag again _. _ ” Derek asks.

Stiles does as he’s told, and continues the tune on his guitar. “ _ Permanent Jet Lag… _ ”

“ _ Please take me back. _ ” Derek tries.

Stiles’ eyes twinkle, echoing. “ _ Please take me bac _ k.”

Erica changes the pattern of her baseline and Stiles points encouragingly at her. She smiles and continues.

“ _ I’m a stray dog sick? _ ” Derek tries.

“ _ Please let me in. _ ” Stiles adds, eyes only on Derek.

Derek echos, smiling ear to ear, happy to share this with Stiles. “ _ Please let me in _ .” He just contributed to the song. This is a big deal.

Scott chimes in, “The mad key's tripping, singing vows before we exchange smoke rings!”

Jackson jumps back in with the chorus, “ _ Give me a pen! Call me! Mr. Benzedrine…”  _

Derek sings along, listening to all of his friends, and Stiles’ friends sing together. 

Stiles doesn’t sing, he strums, closing his eyes and listening, stepping in when someone forgets what comes next because Stiles is the only one with a hard copy that he can refer back to.

“ _ Ba ba ba ba Benzedrine.”  _ Stiles mumbles, taking a sip of the bottle of water that Derek handed him.

Derek mimics him, liking the sound. “ _ My, my, my Benzedrine.” _

Stiles smiles down on him and the others grow quiet hearing a new addition. “ _ My, ba ba ba ba ba Benzedrine now!” _

The others join in, happy for a more upbeat tune, because even though the song is upbeat, the meaning behind it is upsetting, to say the least.

“ _ Ba ba ba ba Benzedrine. My, my, my Benzedrine. My ba ba ba ba ba Benzedrine now! _ ”

They sing through the song again, finally coming together even with a few stumbles, but everyone sings together. When the words end, everyone but Stiles stops playing.

“Have you ever wanted to disappear?” Stiles sings, just like the first line of the song. 

“Hell yes!” Jackson fist pumps. 

Derek hides his grin from Jackson, but Jackson generally keeps any and all excitement to himself. This seems to have forced a fist through his carefully sculpted disposition. 

Scott reaches over Derek and grabs Stiles’ journal, going over the words and scratching in some notes, then hands it to Lydia who does the same thing, then Isaac.

Derek doesn’t know what’s going on, and kind of wants to take a look when they hand the notebook down to Erica who looks just as confused as Derek. 

She reads over the page and bites her lip taking the offered pencil and scratches her note as well, then hands it up to Jackson.

Derek watches it make it’s to Boyd who takes a little longer, then down to him.

The page is covered.

There are the lyrics, scratched out and abandoned ones, arrows pointing where everything goes, chord and measure notations so they don’t forget all the hard work they did, and then there are signatures next to lines and verses where the others worked together on a specific spot. 

Derek places a simple D.H. next to the small pieces he worked with, but thanks his lucky stars he was able to, because this is making him all tingly. He kind of wants to make a copy of it and keep it forever.

Isaac reaches under his seat to roll out a drawer filled with water bottles and tosses one to everyone, all of them throwing it back suddenly very thirsty. Maybe creativity makes you thirsty? Derek wouldn’t know because he can’t write a song to save his life, the few he’s been involved with were heavily led by more talented individuals.

Everyone starts engaging in separate conversations, and Erica hops up to molest Boyd, the adrenaline running through both of their veins. Jackson and Scott start a new game on the Xbox. Lydia and Isaac curl up to cuddle, his fingers dragging through her long curls.

Derek looks up at Stiles who is quickly clearing his lap to stand up. He grabs Derek by the sleeve and pulls him up and leads him past the curtain.

Derek follows without question.

Stiles pushes Derek against the bathroom door and mashes their faces together in a filthy kiss.

Derek coils his arms around Stiles finally, and gets in on the action, their harsh breath filling his ears. 

Stiles runs a hand up Derek’s chest and kneads at his pectoral muscle, before dragging his nails down and around over his ribs. Derek bucks involuntarily against Stiles, his lower areas quickly getting involved.

After a few long minutes, Stiles pulls back allowing them both to breathe and drops his face to Derek’s neck to inhale deeply at his collar. 

Finally, Stiles speaks. “I’ve wanted to do that since I got on the bus.” He pauses, rubbing his lips along some of Derek’s scruff on his neck. “But you just looked so cute playing video games with Erica, and I’m trying to make you uncomfortable so I resisted for as long as I could.”

“Don’t.” Derek whispers, threading his fingers through the back of Stiles’ hair.

Stiles makes a noise in the back of his throat.

“Don’t hold back.” Derek clarifies.

Stiles shifts his lips again across Derek’s neck. “It’s not that easy.” He groans, “I want you all the time, Derek.”

Derek growls with the admission and pushes Stiles back against their bunk, pulling the curtain back roughly.

A second of panic flickers through Stiles’ eyes, but then he grins already climbing into the bunk and edging over so Derek can crawl in with him. 

Derek props himself on one arm to close the curtain and just as they are successfully shielded from the rest of the bus, Stiles leans up latching onto Derek’s neck, fingers squeezing at his bicep. Derek groans falling forward to bracket himself over Stiles, chests pressed firmly together due to the height of the bunk.

Stiles spreads his legs, letting Derek drop between his thighs, bringing both of their searing heat together. Stiles cries out and Derek does his best to muffle the sound with his mouth.

Stiles regains control, and starts talking. “We just wrote a song together, Derek.” He punctuates by biting down on Derek’s bottom lip. 

“You guys did all the work.” Derek retorts, his hips finding a rhythm, as he slides along Stiles seeking friction.

Stiles shakes his head, but doesn’t respond. He leans up and bites at Derek’s jaw, before another thought makes itself known. “I might have told the world that we were a  _ thing _ today… hope that’s okay.”

Derek growls low in his chest, and sucks Stiles’ lip in between his teeth.

Derek has made out with Stiles many times, he likes to think he knows exactly what to expect from Stiles. They will keep this up a minute or two but then Stiles is going to throw on the breaks and keep official orgasm’s from happening. Derek is just riding it out as long as he can.

Stiles doesn’t stop them though. That’s not all, Stiles is  _ demanding _ . 

Derek can feel the strength in Stiles’ arms holding him down, and plastering their bodies together. He sucks, bites, and licks everything he can get his mouth on. His fingers dig into muscle, turning Derek into jelly above him. He hooks his legs over Derek, not allowing him to get away, as though Derek has any intention to try.

Not likely. 

Derek tries not to make any sudden moves, not wanting this to end, but he knows it will. He’s come to expect it by now. Derek can feel the sweat gathering between the two of them, and he knows he’s only minutes away from coming right in his pants with or without Stiles’ help.

“Stiles?” Lydia calls outside of their small space, and Stiles freezes.

Derek watches his eyes pop open, and jaw clench, before he answers Lydia in a rough voice.

“Yea?”

“Can you come here for a second?” She asks distractedly from further down the bus toward the front. 

Stiles nods without answering, rubbing his face clear, carefully not looking at Derek.. 

Derek rolls away toward the window so Stiles can drop from the bunk and go to Lydia.

Stiles finally gives him a sad smile before closing the curtain with a shaky hand and walking away.

Derek doesn’t like Lydia any more.

* * *

 

“Stiles.” Lydia scorns when he gets to the front where she is sitting on the front sofa with a pillow in her lap.

Stiles drops his head in shame, adjusting his pants where he’s still sporting a semi even though he was just doused in a bucket of ice water, courtesy of Lydia Martin.

“You said-” She starts.

“I know what I said.” Stiles grunts, knocking on the door to the front of the bus, letting them know they need to stop. Stiles knows what he said. The one thing he won’t do until Derek knows, and how close Stiles had just come to doing the exact opposite. He lost himself in a cloud of lust and love seeing Derek work with all of their friends on a song. Something Stiles never had experienced before, something that showed Stiles how much Derek has changed. He lost it for a minute, that’s all.

“I won’t stop you if you change your mind. But I know you, and thought you might have just been a little foggy.” She smiles sadly. 

Stiles nods at her, as the bile collects in his stomach at the realization of what he almost did to Derek.

“Besides,” She smiles standing as they pull into a truck stop. “If you didn’t want to stop and knew exactly what you were doing, you would have told me to fuck off.” 

Stiles forces a laugh, knowing that she’s trying to lighten the mood.

“Never had a problem doing that before.” She laughs.

“Not at all.” Stiles confirms, only feeling worse at the memory of how things used to be. He grabs his jacket and bounds down the stairs to clear his head before everyone else realizes that the bus has stopped.

* * *

 

Derek lies on his back, one hand over his heart that is rocketing out of control, and the other over his eyes trying to block out the rest of the world.

He knows how doomed his relationship with Stiles is.  _ He knows. _

Any other sane person would have run the other direction a few states back at the latest, but Derek  _ can’t _ . 

He can still feel Stiles clasping at his arms, a brand searing deep in Derek’s bones. His tight hold around his lower back, and the shear force he exerted to pin Derek down over him. Derek feels himself twitch back to life at the thought. The evidence of their 7 Minutes in Heaven never really went away, if Derek is being honest.

He reaches the hand over his eyes down to grip himself. He really has no intention of jerking it in Stiles’ bunk, but God, he wants to. 

He tells himself he’s only going to indulge himself for a minute and nothing more. Honest.

He keeps his eyes closed and tries to imagine Stiles, but all he’s getting are the feelings he gets when they are together, since he always has his eyes closed apparently. Derek makes a mental note to pay better attention in the future. 

Derek tries to hone in all of his focus on picturing Stiles and almost gives up when suddenly-

* * *

 

_ Stiles is lying next to him in a large bed in a pristine room much like all of the hotels they frequently stay in. Stiles rolls over on top of him, straddling his hips, and bending forward to mouth at his jaw and neck.  _

_ Derek does his best not to ruin the fantasy by opening his mouth to talk or direct what happens, he just lets his mind lead the way.  _

_ Stiles body grinds on top of him with expert precision, knowing exactly what needs to be done to turn Derek into a writhing mess, and Derek swears he can actually feel it.  _

_ Stiles works his wet lips down to a nipple, flicking his tongue against the sensitive nub, which hey, new thing there!  _

_ “One day,” Stiles starts, kissing across Derek’s chest, iris’ glowing under long thick lashes. “I am going to take you on a real date, Derek Hale.” _

_ Derek feels himself start to respond. “Stop.” It’s not a demand with any heat behind it, and Derek finds himself confused, but unable to think with the heat burning between him and Stiles. _

_ “No,” Stiles argues, coming up to lace his fingers in Derek’s hair and kiss him gently. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I want to do all the cliche, romantic, cute shit with you, do you understand me?” _

_ Derek feels his heart speed up, and when he realizes why- _

* * *

 

His eyes pop open, heart hammering out of control. 

_ ‘Cute Shit.’  _

_ ‘Take you on a date.’ _

Derek remembers having a dream with the faceless guy complaining and yelling about how all he wanted was to take him on a  _ date _ , how he wanted all the  _ cute shit _ , and now Derek is fantasizing about a similar situation. Except, this isn’t like any other fantasy he’s ever let himself indulge in. 

Everything was insanely vivid, down to the thread count of the sheets. 

Stiles even looked younger, not as many frown lines, or the ever constant purple shade under his eyes.

Derek responded in the fantasy, without actually understanding the conversation. 

He feels his skin start to clam with sweat.

_ What the fuck is wrong with his brain? Are these just dreams of Stiles to try and push Derek toward him? Was the fantasy just an extension of that? Has he caused himself further brain damage from all the blue balls Stiles has so kindly left him with over the past six months?  _

He feels himself start to hyperventilate, breath coming in short bursts, and his ears start ringing. 

Whenever he starts questioning his brain he freaks out, to say the least. He has miles of documentation detailing just how fragile and broken the spongy organ is, and when things like this start happening Derek fears that he’s getting worse and that he will lose more memories, or basic motor functions. 

He remembers all too clearly how helpless he felt when he was unable to curl his fingers and scratch his nose and ended up punching himself in the eye.

Some time later, that Derek couldn’t measure if you paid him, he feels two strong arms wrap around him.

At that Derek feels himself start to cry at the realization that he is having a full on panic attack. 

“Shhh,” a rough voice whispers over his hair. “It’s okay, Derek.” 

He feels himself calm just a hair at the sound of his own name, but it does nothing to ease his heart rate.

“I have you, Derek.” The voice comes again. “Breathe with me.”

Derek tries, panic growing higher the more he can’t. He can’t even hear them breathing, only his own rough, sharp inhales that are like steel wool to his lungs.

“Or don’t, that’s perfectly fine too.” The voice comforts. “Just listen to my voice, you aren’t alone, I’m right here.”

A hand rubs across his back, and squeezes at his neck.

Derek’s breathing start to finally even out, and he feels his muscles release. 

“There you go, that’s better.” The voice, which Derek can now identify as male, reassures, and runs a hand through his hair. 

Derek wants to ask who it is, but he knows he just needs to open his eyes to see. He allows himself a few more minutes to calm down in the comfort of the warm embrace.

“You’re okay, Derek.” The voice says, rubbing a thumb under his eyes to remove the sweat and tears. 

Derek feels himself flush with embarrassment at needing such treatment, but he reminds himself that if it were a problem this person would have walked right by the bunk. They wanted to help, and Derek is grateful.

He gets ready to open his eyes and expects to find Boyd who has helped him through quite a few back when he was still in physical therapy. Boyd hardly knew him, but was more than willing to pull a weak, shattering, man baby into his arms and humm him back to reality.  

But something feels different, not quite Boyd, and there is no way Jackson would suddenly know how to handle an attack.

Derek opens his eyes finally.

“Hey, buddy.” Scott greets him. 

Derek blanches. 

Scott was the last person he expected to see. 

“You? Why? How?” Derek stutters, eloquently.

Scott laughs leaning back in the bunk, no longer holding Derek, and Derek feels his skin cool against the air of the AC in the small bunk. “I was walking by and heard you…” 

Derek nods, appreciating the help. “How did you know what to do though?”

Scott looks away as he clears his throat. “I’ve helped Stiles with his… “

Derek swallows, he remembers Stiles having an attack in his bunk, which led to the first night they ever slept together. Derek hadn’t even considered the possibility that Stiles has regular attacks. He feels awful for being so pushy with him, clearly he has more than enough reason to try and control his immediate relationships.

Stiles clearly understands that Derek has some trauma, and never prods for information on the accident, and if it comes up and makes Derek uncomfortable, Stiles drops it without question.

Derek is ashamed he never gave Stiles the same courtesy.

“You okay, bro?” Scott asks, tapping his arm.

“Yea, sorry, I’m good. I was just thinking about Stiles… I didn’t realize.” Derek swallows.

Scott smiles, “That’s because he doesn’t like to let his weakness show.” He hops from the bunk. “A lot like you, actually. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with mel.” Scott smiles brightly as his name is called and nods to Derek before he walks away.

Derek falls asleep minutes later, exhaustion at it’s peak.

* * *

 

_ Derek’s setting a small round table with two candlesticks and wine glasses. He puts a bottle of red wine in a bucket of ice to the far side of the table between the two chairs set on either side facing each other, and then makes the plates with spaghetti, salad, and garlic bread. _

_ He checks his phone for the time and goes to wash his hands. He hears a key card in the door and rushes to light the candles before Stiles can see what is waiting for him. _

_ Stiles opens the door, making his way to the dresser to empty his pockets. “You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had, come give me some sugar, cutes.” Stiles turns to find Derek, and his eyes finally land on the table Derek has set for them, and his eyes dart around the room taking in the dim lighting, the soft music playing on pandora, and Derek standing with a hint of a smile hoping Stiles will appreciate the small effort he’s put forth. “Derek…” Stiles breathes. _

_ “Since we can’t go on an official date, I thought I would try and bring the date to us.” Derek smiles, taking a few steps forward. _

_ “No, you didn’t…” Stiles smiles, closing the distance between them quickly to pull Derek into his space and plant a soft kiss to his lips.  _

_ Derek smiles into the kiss, pleased to see Stiles react the way he is. “I did.” _

_ “I love you so much, Derek Hale.” Stiles smiles before pulling away. “I’m going to change out of these,” he pulls at his shirt removing it in one quick motion, “And wash my hands. Just give me two minutes.” _

_ Derek nods before reaching out and pulling Stiles in by the belt loops of his khakis, and trailing a line of kisses down his sternum. _

_ Stiles arches away, moaning at the contact, then brings a hand to pull at Derek’s hair. “Derek, if you start with that, we will never eat, or leave the bed ever again.” _

_ Derek grins, sucking a mark over Stiles’ heart, then releases him to clean up. _

_ While Stiles is cleaning up, Derek opens the wine and pours half a glass for each of them, then waits for Stiles to return so he can pull his chair out for him before taking his own seat. _

_ Stiles’ eyes roll into his skull when he leans forward to dramatically inhale the smell of his plate, moaning in pleasure. “You are seriously too good to me. I don’t deserve you.” _

_ Derek fights the urge to preen at the appreciation, and settles for a small dip of his head as he fights the soft blush burning under his collar. “You mentioned you had a rough day, what happened? You stopped texting me a few hours ago.” _

_ Stiles grunts, as he follows Derek’s lead and starts twirling a fork of spaghetti onto his fork. “I had a meeting with the label, and Kate gave me a verbal lashing I won’t soon forget.” _

_ Derek feels guilt well in the pit of his stomach, but isn’t sure what the source is. _

_ “It’s okay, though. Nothing I can’t handle as long as I can come back to you, cutes.” Stiles smiles through a mouthful of spaghetti. _

_ Derek swallows the bread in his mouth before asking, “Why, Cutes? You’ve been calling me that for awhile and I have no idea where it came from.” Derek laughs loading up another forkfull. _

_ Stiles winks, before clearing his throat. “It’s in a Sinatra song.” _

_ Derek tilts his head in question, not familiar with the song. _

_ “You’re going to make me sing it aren’t you?” Stiles chuckles. _

_ Derek nods, always wanting to hear Stiles sing.  _

_ Stiles sighs like he’s being put out but his eyes twinkle in the candle light. “[Hey there, Cutes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0T8AMAzvejc) _ , put on your dancing boots, and come dance with me.” _ Stiles walks his fingers across the table and up Derek’s hand to his forearm. _

_ Derek finds himself shaking his head and turning his head over to hold Stiles’ hand. _

_ The humm trails off in Stiles’ throat as he lets his eyes rake over Derek’s features. _

_ They remain like that a few minutes before Derek gives his hand a squeeze and moves to pull his hand back and attempt to eat some more.  _

_ Stiles follows suit, his eyes never leaving Derek’s face for more than a second at a time. _

_ After the both of them have cleared their plates and shared nearly a full bottle of wine, Stiles stands up, and holds a hand out to Derek, with a small smile on his lips.  _

_ Derek doesn’t hesitate, taking the offered hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.  _

_ Stiles laces their fingers together, and slides his other hand around Derek’s waist to pull him close as he starts a soft sway. “Care to share this dance with me?” Stiles winks face a few inches from Derek’s. _

_ Derek nods, fighting the ever constant blush when he’s around Stiles. _

_ Stiles runs the hand on his waist up his side and along his bicep until he settles Derek’s arm over his shoulder and around their neck, then leads Derek in a simple dance. _

_ Derek closes his eyes, breathing in the smell of Stiles wine drenched breath. _

_ “ _ [ You've been on my mind ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wA4ppvp2IzY) _[,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wA4ppvp2IzY)” Stiles sings lightly as a new song starts. “ _ I grow fonder every day. _ ” _

_ Derek’s fingers tingle as his heart skips a beat at the sincerity in Stiles’ words.  _

_ “ _ Lose myself in time just thinking of your face. God only knows why it's taken me so long to let my doubts go _ …” Stiles pulls their chests flush. “ _ You're the only one that I want. _ ” _

_ Derek lets Stiles’ lead them in a small circle, never once stepping on his toes. _

_ “ _ I don't know why I'm scared, I've been here before. Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all.” _ Stiles sings, face coming to sing lightly in Derek’s ear.  _ “You never know if you never try, to forgive your past and simply be mine!”

_ A sharp chill runs down his spine, blooming heat in his chest. _

“I dare you to let me be your, your one and only!” _ Stiles sings, nose digging into his collar. “ _ Promise I'm worthy to hold in your arms!”

_ Derek instinctively pulls Stiles closer with the arm around his neck, hiding his own heated cheeks in Stiles’ collar. _

“So come on and give me the chance, to prove that I'm the one who can…” _ Stiles runs his nose along the tendon in Derek’s neck.  _ “Walk that mile until the end starts.”

_ Derek tries his best to keep his heart under control, he’s cool, he can totally handle this. _

_ Stiles presses their foreheads together, lifting his fingers that are laced with Derek’s to secure his hold. “ _ If I've been on your mind? You hang on every word I say, lose yourself in time at the mention of my name.” 

_ Derek takes in a sharp breath, afraid to admit just how gone he is over Stiles, and damn how he wishes he had chosen a different Pandora station. _

_ Stiles smiles, rubbing their noses together. _ “Will I ever know how it feels to hold you close?”  _ Stiles’ fingers tighten in the fabric of Derek’s waist, pulling him even closer, their abdomens molding to each other.  _ “And have you tell me whichever road I choose you'll go?”

_ Derek feels himself nod before he can stop himself. It’s the truth, all he can think about is Stiles, and he would gladly follow him anywhere just to be in his presence. _

_ Stiles skips singing the chorus again in favor of sucking Derek’s bottom lip between his. _

_ Derek threads his fingers in Stiles’ hair, the slightly oily hair sticking out in it’s wake. _

_ Stiles picks back up singing, his words a ghost over Derek’s moist lips.  _ “I know it ain't easy, giving up your heart.” 

_ Derek nods again, eyes clenching shut. _

“I know it ain't easy, giving up your heart.”  _ Stiles repeats, while his hand around Derek’s back trails along his pants line. _

_ Derek fights the self conscious burn behind his ears. He doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve to hear Stiles whisper sweet nothing’s to him. _

_ Stiles switches to the lower line humming under the song.  _ “Nobody's perfect, trust me I've learned it.” 

_ Derek tilts his chin up to suck a chaste kiss from Stiles, the both of them smiling in their private moment, hidden from the world and lit by candle light. _

_ Suddenly, Stiles takes their intertwined fingers and swirls Derek forward and around before clinging him back into his chest. “ _ So I dare you to let me be your, your one and only!” _ Stiles belts as Derek laughs at the sudden movement.  _ “I promise I'm worthy to hold in your arms!”

_ Stiles doesn’t sing the rest as they dance like children and giggle uncontrollably for the duration of the song. _

* * *

 

When Derek wakes up he’s still alone in Stiles’ bunk and the bus is moving again. He has no idea how much time has passed since he passed out. He fishes his phone out of his pocket to find  it’s almost six PM meaning they will be showing up to the arena any second. Derek scrubs at his face to regain some sense of consciousness. 

His mind is still foggy with the dream he just had of Stiles, and how badly he wishes it were real.

He sees he has a missed text from Stiles and opens it quickly. It’s a link to a song with a question mark.

Derek opens it, plugging in his ear phones to engulf his senses in a song of Stiles’ choosing.

Derek responds quickly with a very strong,  _ Yes. _

* * *

 

“Sterek! Sterek! Sterek!” The crowd chants, begging Derek to come back out on stage and sing a duet with Stiles.

Their duet of  _ Just One Yesterday _ ended up trending on Twitter, and it was all the reporters wrote about for days, everyone wanting to know if Sterek was a real thing. There was a lot of speculations surrounding their  _ fragile,  _ as Stiles put it, relationship.

They have decided to sing a duet at each show, and the band has agreed as long as they have a few hours to learn the song.

“Alright, I hear you.” Stiles laughs, moving to lean against the drum lift as Derek makes his way out under the blue lights as the band starts to play the song Stiles suggested earlier on the bus.

Derek starts singing from backstage, eyes locked on Stiles as he looks up from the corner of his eyes, a loose smile holding his cheeks together. “[Quickly always escaping me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z1gkpIFqpPU) _ , making it hard to breath, as you're moving through my mind.” _ The lyrics couldn’t be more accurate of how Derek is affected by Stiles’ presence.

Stiles eyes follow Derek as he walks out onto the stage, microphone in hand.

_ “I need to talk to you.” _ Derek sings easily, voice taking on a lilt with desire.  _ “I need to know you and words can not describe.” _

Stiles leans forward running a hand down his thigh.  _ “You're paralyzing. It's hypnotizing.”  _ Stiles clenches his eyes closed as though unable to focus.  _ “The way you move and I can't get enough.” _

Derek holds center stage, tilting his head back. He just watches how easily Stiles sings, how smooth his voice curls around the song they cover together.

Stiles stands, feet dragging toward Derek, a gentle rock to his shoulders. Slinking. “ _ So captivating. It drives me crazy. You're what I need…”  _ Stiles comes to stand behind Derek, fingers ghosting over his shoulder. _ “And I can’t get enough…” _

Derek closes his eyes, the gentle caress burning through his skin and setting him on fire.  _ “Won't you take me away to a better place!” _ He belts, unable to hold back the passion behind the words.  _ “Where my hearts skips a beat when I see your face!” _

Stiles comes around to the front of Derek, pulling his shirt forward, knocking their chests together.  _ “So take me, take me, and rearrange me! Got me feelin high and low!” _

Derek bumps their noses together, a teasing smile pulling at the corners of their lips.  _ “So won't you take me, take me, and rearrange me! Got me feelin high and low…” _

_ “So take me away!” _ Stiles cries, head thrown back, fingers white with how tightly he grabs Derek’s shirt.

Derek barely resists the urge to lean forward and suck a mark into the exposed skin, but holds back as his next verse comes.  _ “You're finally staring at me, your eyes on mine.”  _ Derek walks backwards drawing Stiles gaze, he may cant his hips more than normal, taunting Stiles.  _ “Time is standing still, for you and I…” _

Stiles groans pulling at his hair and Derek prays it’s not an act. _ “Baby love, uh baby luh!”  _ Stiles brings his center of gravity down, curling his body forward as he shuffles across the stage toward Derek.  _ “You're paralyzing, and hypnotizing.”  _

Derek backs away, starting a game of chase in slow motion.  _ “The sight of you, I can't get enough.” _

_ “Oh,”  _ Stiles groans bending over with the force, then flipping backwards to get the words out.  _ “Baby, I'm thinking of you, and I know I got you thinking of me too.” _ Stiles clasps his fingers around his neck.  _ “But I'm all choked up, so I guess it's safe to say I'm blue. Take me away to a better place Whoa oh ho!” _ Stiles carries, body slack with defeat as Derek keeps the distance between them.

Derek doesn’t feel guilty, because this is a performance and he wants to play it up, also Stiles has literally yanked him around enough that he feels he deserves a few minutes to play.  _ “Where my heart skips a beat when I see your face!” _

Stiles turns toward the audience, holding his chest,  _ “Hooo hooo” _ He carries, desperate.  _ “So take me, take me. _ ” Stiles continues, and all Derek can see is his back, the way it flexes, and curls around sharp bone, and lean muscle.  _ “And rearrange me. Got me feelin high and low.”  _

Derek walks toward him, unable to resist him while on stage. Derek has spent dozens of shows trapped backstage unable to see, smell, and touch, but now he finds himself ruining the opportunity. He thought he wanted to tug Stiles around, tease him, but what he should have been doing was clinging to him, roughly, with his teeth.

Stiles repeats himself, unaware that Derek is making his way up behind him.

Derek waits until Stiles has sang the final line, then promptly picks him up around the waist to throw over his shoulder, and walks them both off stage as Stiles giggles maniacally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this got away from me a little, and I couldn't cut the chapter down, so I left it all together and gift wrapped it for you guys!  
> Thank you all so much for commenting, and sending me sweet messages on Tumblr, honestly those few words of encouragement are the fuel to my fire.
> 
> Few notes.  
> 1) I received a comment from [iMOCKusALL](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iMOCKusALL/pseuds/iMOCKusALL) asking for 20 Dollar Nose Bleed and I cringed because I know the song, all too well, and has already contemplated how to weave it into the story, but I refused to admit defeat, so I made it happen! Was I the only one who used to be hella confused over what the song was about? I sat down for nearly an hour picking this sucker apart so that each word fit the story. So! I Hope i did it justice :)  
> 2) There wasn't a lyric video of the last song High and Low, so I settled for the music video and it actually made me happy because it shows how I imagine all of them on the road but don't have the time to focus on when writing.  
> and 3) i can't focus right now because the entire street has flooded with over a foot of water around my work and we are all stranded here for the foreseeable future. Hope you guys are doing better than I am!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Luh ya, cuties!


	14. I can't love you today, tomorrow, anyway, anyhow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adore Delano guest appearance, and award show!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned a few chapters back that I went with my sister to see Adore Delano in concert and that she would def be making an appearance - so voila!
> 
> If you are not familiar with who she is, please watch [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tx6LQcGy6R4) video so, believe me you won't regret it! She is the cutest little muffin ever and I will protect her with my life.
> 
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.
> 
> Any who! This is another long one! Enjoy!

Stiles makes a display of exhaustion flopping down onto the lift where Scott’s drums are set up. Isaac is chugging a bottle of water, Lydia is tieing her flannel over shirt around her waist, and Scott is antagonizing the crowd, making them scream, then quiet down, then lifting his shirt with a wink, then pushing it back down and waving a disapproving finger at them. 

Stiles laughs, wiping a towel across his face allowing the sound crew to cue up the next song which isn’t one they have ever played before. 

When they got into town, Lydia immediately posted a pic of the  _ Welcome to Azusa, California _ sign, and it was only a few hours later that one of Stiles favorite people started blowing his phone up. It only took ten seconds on the phone with them to invite them to the show and plan a guest appearance.

Adore was one of the most empathetic toward his predicament after the accident. She didn’t romanticise it. She didn’t insist on long conversations and discussions trying to help fix him. When they hung out they just partied. She would keep him under control so he didn’t get out of hand, but she didn’t treat it like anything more than a night out, not  _ a night out to forget _ . 

There were bad night that Stiles would have one drink too many, or one pill too many, and he would end up crying in an alley. 

She would step in and hold him and let him cry. She’d listen, and talk when necessary. She never encouraged him to try and move on, or held him back. She just held his hand through the recovery process.

Stiles remembers trying to convince her to go on the road with him when the tour started the following year, but she couldn’t because of her own music career. They try to exchange emails and calls as much as possible, and if they are ever in the same place at the same time, it’s mandatory that they get together.

Like tonight. 

She didn’t make it to the venue before Stiles and the band had to go on, so he hasn’t been able to give her a hug that is way overdue, because she is always late to  _ everything!  _ But he can see her finally at the side of the stage waving, and posing in her signature punk pose, hips cocked, legs spread, rock and roll fingers, and a long tongue sticking out. 

Stiles smiles taking in what she’s [wearing](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iI6jvi9rnMM/VSwg7HceAjI/AAAAAAAAAS4/obzXx2JpMEs/s1600/adore%2B2.jpg), and how she planned her outfit around their show. He doesn’t miss her plaid flannel in honor of his own that he wears ninety percent of his life.

She has wide fishnets with tears paired with platform combat boots. White wash cutoffs, and a black studded corset. The flannel is bright blue and is tied loosely around her waist, and rolled up at her elbows. Her hair tonight is blonde with dark roots and hanging down to her waist in loose curls. She has thick eyeliner, and bright red lipstick on to complete her  _ PunkRock _ look for the night.

Stiles winks his approval toward the side of the stage and finally lifts his microphone to address the audience. “Do you guys mind if I check my messages real quick? I have like seven here and want to make sure there isn’t an emergency.”

The audience responds in a rowdy cheer.

“Awesome. Thank you, guys!” He holds up a hand as he keys up his phone like he’s opening the voicemail. “Shhh… I can’t hear!” 

The crowd goes silent, or as silent as five thousand people can be, and the speakers amplify the recording. Stiles holds his phone to the microphone like it’s a real message.

_ “[Hey, it's Adore again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=52KmnKb0XJI).” _

Stiles makes a show of rolling his eyes and his neck dramatically, the fans already screaming understanding what is about to happen, but Stiles continues to act like it’s a real message.

_ “Why aren't you answering my calls?” _

Stiles looks over to see Adore adjusting her hair, seconds from her entrance.

_ “I called like 5 times! I left you like 7 messages!” _

Stiles makes a swirl with his finger at his temple, mouthing ‘ _ She’s crazy _ ’ to the front row.

_ “Call me back.” _

Adore comes out then, skipping toward where Stiles still sits in front of the drums.  _ “I like the outfit you got yesterday at 12:23. And my favourite thing to do is watch you dream in your sleep.”  _

Stiles stares in mock horror.

_ S _ he plops down next to him and lays her head over on his shoulder.

Stiles goes stock still, eyes wide in terror.

_ “Hello, I'm so happy that you're mine!”  _ She looks up, head still nestled on his shoulder, and starts playing with his collar. 

Lydia echos in the background for their friend.  _ “Hello, hello..” _

Stiles swallows thickly, watching how it shows in the monitor in front of him. Stiles has never claimed to be an actor, and he won’t be winning any Academy Awards any time soon, but he’s doing his best for the performance.

The crowd is laughing and cheering, happy to see the duo back together. 

They had their own ship, completely platonic in reality, but worshiped by the dozen.  _ Stadore _ . So most, if not all, of the crowd are ecstatic to see them together.

She reaches for his phone, leveling him with a glare.  _ “And I think you blocked my number, so I got a new phone!” _

Stiles snatches it away before standing to walk away.

She traipses behind him, looking dreamily at the back of his head.  _ “Cause I'll always be there even when you think you're alone. Hello, never gonna say goodbye.”  _

Stiles can see her getting closer in the monitor and makes himself flinch when she whispers in his ear even though it is one of the most comforting things to him.

Lydia echos again,  _ “Hello, hello…” _

He can feel Adore’s lips brush against his ear, and knows that the Stadore fans are going to lose it after this. They are making a point of exaggerating this performance as much as possible, because they have Danny filming it so that they can upload a good recording for the fans. It’s been over a year since they have been seen together, and they want to make it special.

She stalks toward him as he retreats.  _ “Always be together…” _

Stiles tries to hide behind Lydia who’s laughing and not offering any help from where she sits on her stool, legs crossed delicately.

_ “Always and forever!”  _ Adore shouts with a mad gleam in her eyes.

Stiles dodges back and forth from the other side of Lydia as Adore does the same on the other side. 

_ “I won't leave, until you answer me!” _

Stiles throws a towel at her, missing on purpose because she would have his head if it smeared her makeup. 

_ “What do you say?”  _ She smirks,

Lydia sings from between them, barely hiding her glee.  _ “Hello, hello...Hello, hello…” _

_ “I love you.” _ Adore draws a heart in the air, and Stiles takes the moment of distraction to dart past her across the stage toward Isaac.

Isaac practically runs off the stage in an attempt not to get steamrolled by the two idiots playing tag on stage.

“ _ You're all mine, until the end of time. What do you say?” _ Adore turns her head towards the front row, crossing her eyes with a wide smile, and sings with Lydia.  _ “Hello, hello...Hello, hello...I love you.” _

Stiles takes the new opportunity to hide behind Scott and the drums while she isn’t looking, and peeks over Scott’s shoulder.

Adore continues singing to the pit. _ “Got our song, it's up and ready for our very first kiss.” _ She blows a messy kiss at the audience, and drags a hand across her mouth smearing her lipstick.  _ “And I brought a list of names when we're ready for kids.”  _ She rubs her belly, and walks the front of the stage, taking a moment to actually sing. _ “Hello, I'm so happy that you're mine!”  _ She shimmies her hips, running a hand up her leg, and up her sternum, eyes rolling into the back of her head.

Stiles smiles from where his mouth is hidden behind Scott’s shoulder. 

Adore could perform all day everyday, she loves every aspect of the stage.

Lydia sings.  _ “Hello, hello…”  _

Adore reaches for hands.  _ “Kept a locket of your hair for my collection of you…” _ She twirls the ends of her hair, and skips to the other side of the stage.

Stiles ducks his head when she starts looking for him again, a hand blocking the light above her eyes as she surveys her surroundings.

_ “When you say I'm fucking crazy, I know you mean I'm cute. Hello, never gonna say goodbye!” _

She sings the chorus again, still looking for him, dragging Lydia along to help, and looking under Isaac’s shirt (just in case he’s hiding there.) She grabs hands in the audience yanking them around to see if he’s hiding among the group, earning laughter all around.

She pulls out her phone from her bra and pretends to leave a voicemail since she can’t find him.  _ “Hey, it's Adore again. I've called like 10 times.” _ She fans her fingers on the microphone in annoyance. “ _ I even called your house phone and left a message with your father. I haven't heard from you yet...I really miss you!”  _

She lets the phone down from her ear like she’s done, then shoves it back to her mouth.  _ “I like what you were wearing last night…” _

She drops the phone again, before pulling it up again quickly.  _ “Call me back please!”  _

Stiles jumps up to dash backstage. 

She spots him and chases after him shouting  _ “I love you!” _ as the lights go out.

Once back stage Stiles stops and Adore tackles him from behind knocking them both to the ground with an  _ oof _ . 

Before Stiles can regain his composure and try to right himself, he’s already being straddled and manhandled into being rolled over onto his back underneath her.

“Hey, you handsome fucker!” She smiles leaning forward to plant a kiss on his mouth.

Stiles reaches up to hug her, and pull her closer to his chest. It’s been way too long, and he’ll take his hug however he can.

She braces her forearms around his head, her hair forming a curtain as they look at each other.

“Missed you, boo.” Stiles smiles, gently moving a strand of her hair out of her face.

She smiles, kissing his nose, “Right back at ya, babe.” She sits back up and stands pulling Stiles with her and they dust themselves off getting ready to go back out on stage.

Stiles looks over and sees Derek with his hands shoved stiffly in his pockets, eyes avoiding Stiles. 

He’s standing with his band and they are all judging him, so Stiles grabs Adore’s hand and drags her over to Derek.

“Derek, this is Adore, Adore, this is Derek.” Stiles introduces.

Adore smiles, “Ohhh, we already met.” She laughs, “Nearly knocked his ass over when I was darting around back here looking for you!” She shoves Stiles roughly, like it’s his fault she was late. 

Derek tilts his head in greeting.

Stiles points to the others. “Not sure if you assaulted them too, but this is Erica, Boyd, and Jackson.”

They exchange greetings, and the stage manager calls thirty seconds. 

Adore runs to locate a mirror and Stiles hangs back to talk to Derek because his brows are a little more knit than normal. “Everything okay?”

Derek nods, but doesn’t look at him.

“Derek.” Stiles says, crawling into his space, demanding he look at him. “Look at me.”

Derek does.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid.”

Stiles watches the blush rise in his cheeks, and how he scratches at his beard. 

Derek’s jealous.

Stiles wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him down. “She’s just a friend. Platonic. I’m yours. Okay?” Stiles bumps their noses together. 

The corner of Derek’s mouth quirks up and he bumps back. 

Stiles tries to ignore how fine the line he travels is. Sure, he’s Derek’s. No question. But if Derek tried to sleep with him tonight, Stiles would have to turn him down.  _ Again _ . 

He’s going to run out of excuses.

Stiles gives Derek a peck on the lips and turns to run back on stage as the others call for him.

“How many of you were surprised to see Miss Adore Delano?” Stiles calls to the audience and is answered with a deafening roar.

“Party!” Adore laughs, covering her ears. 

Stiles smiles at her signature catchphrase, feeling heat engulf his organs in an embrace. Sometimes he forgets just how lucky he is. He has a pretty good set of friends and sometimes he forgets when the bad weighs in.

He has his band, Scott, Lydia, and Isaac who are and  _ will always _ be his ride or die. Allison and Chris at the label who do their very best to make sure the band is okay. Finstock and Danny who serve as constant conductors and keep them on track during tours. Danny who would also miss his own wedding to pick him up from a club if he had no way home. His dad back home who knows when to ignore a problem like him and wait for it to go away. Melissa who has always let him crash on her couch when he was too wasted to face his dad. Then there’s Adore who is amazing in every way, and Stiles can’t think of one thing he doesn’t like about her.

Stiles pointedly doesn’t think about Derek, because any second that bed of comfort will go up in flames.

He tunes back into the conversation around him, looking for comfort in Adore’s voice.

Somehow he has ended up sitting on the drum stand again, with Lydia to his right, Scott to his left, and Adore in his lap. His fingers are tangled in her hair, and twirling the ends with loose interest. Stiles remembers far too many nights just like this.

Adore finally catches his attention. “...I have another back stage if you want one?” She smirks flipping her hair to look teasingly down on him.

“What?” Stiles asks confused.

“Another wig, it’s cotton candy pink though, and I’m not sure if it would work for you…” She bites her lip. “Only one way to find out.” She lunges to stand and Stiles grabs her pulling her back down. 

“No, please.” They both laugh.

“Awwe…” She pouts. “But you look fucking fishy in drag.”

Stiles feels his cheeks heat, remembering the late Saturday night where they stayed in and he let her play dress up with his limp noodle form. She did have a point though, he looked fucking hot. “Yea, well that took hours and we don’t have the time, everyone out there-” He makes a swoop with his arms indicating the audience, “-came to see a show.”

“I’ll be really quick, I swear.” She stands again pulling him up by the hand. “The only reason it took so long last time is because you insisted on tucking yourself and not letting me help.” 

Stiles chokes on the water he just sipped.

She walks around behind him and reaches her hand down his front cupping him and pushing between his legs. “I can tuck you real quick, big boy.” 

Stiles flails out of her reach, “There are people here!” He puts a hand out to block her advance as she licks her lips in a teasing way. “Literally, thousands of people!”

At this point everyone on stage is laughing, even Jackson and Boyd backstage. Erica still hates him though, so she’s looking at her phone pretending not to care. Derek though… he’s not laughing, and he’s pointedly staring at his feet. 

Stiles realizes he has some serious damage control to attend to so he does his best to get the show moving so he can pull Derek into a dark closet and ease the tension in his brow. “Okay! Break’s over! Let’s get this show on the road!” Stiles claps his hands.

Lydia and Scott go back to their respective locations, and Stiles introduces the next song.

“We’re going to do one more song with Adore before we return to your regularly scheduled programming, that okay?” Stiles grins, knowing the answer would be a very enthusiastic  _ yes. _

“Actually,” Adore starts holding up a finger to the crowd. “I know we all planned for  _ Dynamite _ , but I’d really like to sing the song we worked on together.” 

Stiles stares blankly at her. He’s not prepared.

“If that’s okay.” She amends knowing it’s a sore song holding monuments of pain. 

Stiles nods, looking to Lydia to make sure she can play it, and Scott to make sure he’s not in over his head. They both smile brightly at him. Finally, Stiles looks at Derek and decides that if he were ever to sing this song it would only be fitting that Derek be a few feet away and listening to each cry. “Okay.” Stiles finally says, and Adore wraps her arms around him, whispering that it will be good for him in his ear, then pulling back and addressing the light booth.

“Can we get some blue, please?” 

They adjust the lights and she instructs how much to dim them. 

Stiles shakes his head.

“What?” She asks smiling. “It brings out my eyes.” She bats her long, false, lashes, and Stiles swears he feels a breeze.

His friends start playing the song intro and she begins singing while Stiles tries to ignore the swell of his heart as it remembers all the loose scars still mending.

“[Baby you're a work of art](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=arCJg7TuJpk) _ , a shooting star, lighting up the darkness, so lucky that we found this, yeah. _ ” She walks slowly away, gliding across the stage.

Stiles thinks about how they wrote this for Derek after the accident, after he accepted that they could never be together again, but wanted to give credit to their relationship and how fucking wonderful Derek was.

_ “You know you've got me losing sleep. I can't believe the beauty of this moment. It's all I've ever wanted…”  _ She sings, allowing him space to find his footing.

Things have been relatively easy lately, since their talk outside the bus. Derek has given him space, but their bond grows stronger every time they wake up in the same bunk.

Stiles thinks back to all the perfect memories they - no  _ he _ \- has, but never thought he could build on. It was like an ending in a book. A series finale. Never to be touched again.

_ “But I can't love you..” _ She sings looking back at him and he wanders forward, his blood simmering below the surface. _ “I can't love you today, I can't love you tomorrow!”  _ She sings, caressing his cheek and turning back to face the crowd, her back perpendicular to his shoulder. _ “I can't love you anyway! I can't love you anyhow!” _

Stiles swallows, _ “I can't love you, love you.” _ His voice comes out rough, and quiet. He finds his strength and sings the chorus again louder, wrapping an arm around her middle, as her hair cascades over his shoulder, eyes looking up and half lidded.  _ “I can’t love you today! I can’t love you tomorrow!”  _ Stiles bites back the tears, remembering how he had accepted that he couldn’t actively love Derek ever again, only from a long, long distance, and in memory, because  _ his  _ Derek was gone. _ “I can’t love you any way! I can’t love you anyhow!” _

She turns her head slightly, lips brushing against his neck, twisting her body to reach his throat behind her.  _ “I love the way you touch my lips. You live to kiss...the freckles on my shoulder so I can pull you closer, yeah.” _

Stiles looks over to Derek who’s watching them with rapt attention.

_ “Some people search all their lives for what we've got...a fairytale in motion, with hearts deep as the ocean…”  _ She steps forward with a long stride, arm out to the side, and Stiles follows as they sing the chorus again. 

_ “But I can't love you!” _

By the second repetition of the chorus, Stiles doesn’t feel so weak. He  _ couldn’t  _ love Derek, he thought it was over, but he’s been given  _ another chance _ . 

He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, but  _ he’s  _ the fucking shoe.  _ He’s  _ the one who’s going to ruin this. He just needs to come up with a plan on how to tell him, and get it the fuck over with.

Adore grows quiet walking backwards, making Stiles sing the last verse.

_ “Wrote a chapter full of us, just to burn it up.”  _ He sings quietly, blanketed in a blue glow.

She sings behind him in a whisper. _ “I can't love you, love you.” _

Stiles continues, turning his head to Derek.  _ “Tied to bed with bright green eyes, just to come undone!”  _

There’s a moment of silence as Stiles looks over to Adore, both of them nodding, and then they both sing at the top of their lungs, remembering their lost loves.  _ “But I can't love you!” _

They continue singing together,  _ “I can’t love you today, I can’t love you tomorrow!”  _ They walk back and forth across the stage, singing as loudly as they can, holding their stomachs, leaning with the force. _ “I can’t love you anyway! I can’t love you anyhow!”  _

Adore shimmies, and leans, and flips her hair, and puts on a damn good show, while Stiles loses track of the audience and can only feel Derek watching him, and his chest ache with the distance between them.

They sing the chorus again, and when it’s over Stiles runs off stage to kiss Derek like his life depends on it, because it fucking does.

* * *

 

Derek kisses Stiles with more force than he has in days. He’s been trying to go easy on Stiles, let him come around to their new relationship at his own pace, but right now Derek needs to remind not only himself, but Stiles why they are so good together. He needs to show Stiles that he isn’t going anywhere, and that whoever he wrote that song about is gone, but it’s okay because Derek will be better than that guy ever could. 

Stiles moans into his mouth, running his hand up his arms and around his neck, locking them together for another minute before he has to pull away and return to the voices on stage.

Derek pecks him on the nose and tips his head toward the stage, telling Stiles he should go. 

Stiles kisses him roughly once more then backs back out toward the stage.

Adore is talking and Derek tunes back in to hear what she has to say. She’s not a threat, he knows that, but it still stings to see Stiles so comfortable and touchy with someone else. 

Derek gets a little jealous, sue him. He’s never had anyone worth holding onto before.

“You guys are all voting for him right?” Adore asks the crowd. “He’s up for song of the year again, and he won last year, so let’s keep it up!” 

The crowd goes nuts and Stiles dips his head, a low blush peaking out from under his collar.

Adore giggles, “Party!”

Derek realizes he didn’t know Stiles was up for any awards, and he’s ashamed of himself. He should have known. He can’t figure out why Adore is saying it’s just Stiles, because he’s seen the band work together and they always share the credit.

Derek pulls out his phone and Google's.

Stiles  _ is  _ up for an award, but it’s not for a song with  _ Fallout Shelter, _ but a song he wrote for another band Derek has never heard of before, and he bookmarks the song that won last year, making a note to listen to it later. Derek wonders why Stiles would have given his song to someone else. Especially, if it was award worthy.

* * *

 

The after party is larger than normal. Both bands go out like always, but Danny, Adore, and even Finstock tag along. Everyone happy to spend the night with Adore who apparently goes way back with Stiles and the band.

Derek sits back and observes throughout the night. Taking in how relaxed and comfortable they all are, how Adore is another member of the family. 

She flirts with Finstock, planting a wet kiss on his lips, to which he responds in laughter and hits right back on her. 

She dances with Danny and may buy him a few extra drinks than anyone else, and whenever he gets too close to Stiles she drags him away asking for a dance. 

Derek isn’t sure what that’s about, he doesn’t think Adore is interested in Danny or anything, but… there’s something going on.

She takes every opportunity to sit on Isaac’s lap, and whisper into his ear, who she’s definitely attracted to. 

Derek is starting to notice how much of a flirt she is. He almost thinks it inappropriate but he realizes she hasn’t hit on him or any of his friends because they don’t know her. So she knows when not to throw herself at someone, but her friendships with the others are clearly past boundaries.

Eventually, she claps her hands, sitting up from where she’s leaned back on Isaac’s chest, a glass in hand. “Okay, Party’s over. Let’s go back to a hotel or something. I seriously need to untuck. Right the fuck now.”

Stiles laughs and he and Lydia stand to help her up and they all make their way out of the bar. 

Finstock chirps in as they are making their way toward the door. “Can’t be that bad, I lost a testicle to exposure once-”

“We know!” Adore flips laughing, apparently having heard the story  _ plenty _ of times. “I normally don’t stay in drag this long, and I usually wear loose dresses for shows so I’m comfortable.”

“You look cute, boo boo.” Stiles winks, waiting on the curb with security for their SUV.

She flips her hair, “Oh, I know.” She unties her flannel around her waist, holding it open like she’s flashing Stiles. “I wore the plaid for you… to get you all hot and bothered…” She gasps in ecstasy. “I know how you fuckin rock stars are.” She trails off on a moan, and Stiles shoves her toward the waiting car, with his head thrown back in a cackle.

They go back to the bus because they have to leave in a few hours. 

Derek watches her disappear behind a curtain with her bag, and gets Stiles’ attention. “Wanna smoke?” He asks, dying for a second alone with Stiles.

Stiles nods and follows him outside, licking his lips. 

“So..” Derek starts after they light up. “Tonight has been interesting.”

Stiles ducks his head in a giggle. “First time you’ve ever met a Drag Queen, huh?”

“She’s a what?” Derek barks in mock horror.

Stiles throws his head back, body shaking with laughter. After he comes back to himself, he starts talking. “She’s awesome, and I love her.”

Derek isn’t sure he’s ever seen Stiles laugh this much. He ducks his head, not sure what he’s feeling.

“She was there for me during the aftermath of my Ex’s accident.” Stiles says carefully.

Derek’s head pops up. This is the first time Stiles has clarified anything even remotely relevant to his past relationships. Derek remains quiet, hoping Stiles will elaborate.

“All of my friends kept me close, and tried to fix me, and it was just a constant reminder of what I had lost when they were around. Then I met Adore, and she just treated me like a normal person. We went out, we had fun, we watched netflix-”

“She put you in drag.” Derek smiles, remembering the comment from the show, everything making more sense. He finds himself wishing he has interacted more with her, because clearly she’s amazing, and anyone who took care of Stiles was a friend of Derek’s.

“She put me in Drag…” Stiles laughs. “I don’t know. She’s just been awesome to me. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without her.”

“Where’s that fuckin loser at?” 

Derek starts laughing and Stiles rolls his eyes as they both put out their cigarettes to return to the bus where Adore waits.

“There you are!” She shouts as they enter, only, she’s not a she anymore.

Derek blinks taking in the boy in front of him.

He’s young, dark skinned, soft brown hair, and a lot less intimidating in flats, pajama pants, and a loose tank top. 

“Come cuddle with me until you have to go.” She says patting the sofa between her legs for Stiles to take up residence.

Stiles walks forward without hesitating. “You can always come with us.”

“Girl, boo.” She purses her lips, “We’d need a whole other bus just to carry my wardrobe.” 

Lydia groans. “The struggle is real.” Then she looks over at Derek. “And someone keeps bagging up my clothes and throwing them in the trailer.”

“Ahhh…” Adore? Derek isn’t sure what the protocol with gender identification is for drag queens when they are in or out of drag… he’s confusing himself just thinking about it. “So you’re the reason the bus doesn’t smell like feet.” She lets her eyes run up and down Derek’s sitting form across the room. 

Derek nods.

“You’re that guy?” She asks turning her nose up.

“What guy?” Derek asks, feeling attacked all of a sudden.

She rolls her eyes, “You like routine, huh? Need everything to be in order? Everything has its place?”

Derek thinks for a second, then nods slowly. So he likes to manage his immediate environment, sue him.

“Good.” She says after a long pause. “These fuckers need it.” 

Stiles pokes her from where he lays in her lap. “Never had a problem with it before.” 

She scoots further down the sofa, Stiles turning over to cross his arms over her chest and rest his head on his hands. She cradles his hips with her thighs, and half an hour ago Derek might have been jealous, but now he understands better.

This is one of Stiles closest friends, they have a lot of history, and they only have a few hours left to hang out before they separate for God knows how long.

Derek is okay with a little cuddling.

* * *

 

After another hour Scott instigates a battle on the Xbox and leads Jackson, Boyd, and Erica away who cannot resist a challenge. After a loud argument over who was going to be which player, Derek stood up, said goodnight to Adore and joined his band and Scott in the back.

Stiles was still lying on Adore’s chest. Listening to the steady beat of her heart, and gentle rise and fall of her chest. Stiles could lay here forever.

The only people left in the front room are Isaac and Lydia with them, who both kiss her on the head and say goodnight before climbing into their bunks down the hall. 

They only have another hour before they have to get moving so Stiles thanks his friends mentally for allowing him some time alone with her.

She speaks first, “So… that’s Derek.”

“That’s Derek.” Stiles smiles leaving his head on her chest as she runs a hand through his hair.

“He’s fuckin cute.” She drawls, “Hot. Like fuckin burning.”

Stiles grins. He’s aware.

“Doesn’t sound like he knows though.”

“Nope.” Stiles pops the P.

She sighs, “Well you know I’m not the one to tell you what to fuckin do, but keep me updated, okay?”

Stiles nods against his chest, inhaling deeply.

“You don’t even want to know about my love life. It’s a fucking disaster.” She pretends to sob, “Forever alone!” 

Stiles pats his chest soothingly, fighting a giggle.

“My career on the other hand?” She pauses for effect. “Boomin. Boomin, baby.”

They talk about a lot of nothing, and Stiles dreads the engine that will start up any minute and force him to get up and let his boo go. He snuggles closer for as many minutes as he can.

Once the dreaded time arrives for them to say their goodbyes, they stall as long as possible, and eventually Finstock drags her off the bus kicking and screaming like far too many times in the past.

They blow kisses as she loads into the car waiting, and Stiles watches until the tail lights are out of sight. 

He misses her already.

He stripps off his layers and pulls back his curtain on his bunk to see Derek already asleep. Stiles smiles and climbs in beside him. 

Derek stirs slightly, making room, and wrapping an arm around him so he doesn’t bounce out when they hit pot holes, but never really wakes up.

Stiles waits for sleep and tells himself that he’s going to tell Derek before the month is up. He tested the waters by telling Derek a few hours ago that his ex was in an accident and it was easy. 

It was honest. 

He’s been telling himself that he was waiting for Derek to fall in love with him again, and he pretty much has, but he hasn’t  _ said  _ it. Stiles figures this is because Derek doesn’t know his past, he still has reservations… so there’s only one thing left to do.

_ Tell Him. _

* * *

 

The award show is three days later and Derek is sitting in the hotel lobby while everyone tries to finish getting ready so they can load into the waiting town cars and head for the red carpet. 

Derek is doing his best to memorize what he’s [wearing](http://www4.pictures.stylebistro.com/gi/Tyler+Hoechlin+Outerwear+Blazer+GmLZYOYp3YWx.jpg). He can’t remember the designer of the forest green blazer he’s wearing and he’s praying he won’t be asked, but he knows he’s wearing a black Henley, grey Levi’s and a pair of forest green Chino’s. He woke up with the clothes in a garment bag waiting for him at the front desk per Allison.

This is his first award show,  _ Were! At the Disco  _ is up for breakout artist, and  _ Miss Jackson _ is up for Hottest Breakout Song. He doesn’t expect to win, but it would be nice. It’s all Erica and Jackson have been talking about the last few days.

_ Fallout Shelter,  _ on the other hand, are up for a handful of awards, and Stiles’ songwriter of the year award. Stiles is acting like it’s not a big deal but Derek knows he’s nervous by the way he keeps flinching when anyone mentions the award show in general.

Derek realizes he still hasn’t listened to the songs, so he pulls out his headphones and pulls up his bookmark from a few days ago, and hits play. 

Stiles isn’t singing, and it’s an artist he’s never heard before, but he watches the music video anyway.

_ “[Dear darlin’](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m20BTdy9FGI), please excuse my writing. I can’t stop my hands from shaking, cause I’m cold and alone tonight.” _

Derek sucks in a breath. Imagining Stiles hands shaking as he tried to write this song. The artist’s voice trembles over the words.

_ “I miss you and nothing hurts like no you! And no one understands what we went through. It was short. It was sweet. We tried.” _

Derek thinks back to the comment Stiles made a few nights ago about his ex being in an accident. Derek always had a hunch, but now he knew. Stiles lost his ex in an accident. Derek can’t imagine what that has to be like.

_ “And if my words break through the wall...and meet you at your door...All I can say is “Girl, I mean them all.” _

Derek shakes his head sharply, thrown for a loop. He thought that the ex had died, but this doesn’t add up… so then why aren’t they together?

_ “Dear darlin’, please excuse my writing. I can’t stop my hands from shaking. 'Cause I’m cold and alone tonight.” _

Derek thinks back to the night where Stiles had screamed, cried, and begged him not to make him tell him everything yet, because it would change how Derek looked at  _ him _ . Derek’s blood runs cold at the thought that Stiles might have caused the accident.

_ “I miss you and nothing hurts like no you. And no one understands what we went through.” _

_ Yea, _ Derek thinks bitterly,  _ because you never fucking talk about it. _

_ “It was short. It was sweet. We tried. We tried.” _

Derek wants to push Stiles into a room and demand he tell him everything, but that didn’t go so well last time, and the last thing Derek wants is to see Stiles ripping apart at the seams because of him.

_ “Been thinking about the bar we drank in. Feeling like the sofa was sinking. I was warm in the hold of your eyes.” _

Derek knows the feeling all too well, but Derek can’t help but worry now with this song. Stiles may still hold a torch for his ex, who apparently isn’t dead, and Stiles still longs for. Derek might just be a temporary fix.

_ “So if my words break through the wall, to meet you at your door, all I can say is ‘Girl, I mean them all.’” _

Derek finds his knee bouncing in front of him with nerves. It was somewhat more bearable thinking that Stiles ex was no longer… but now… 

_ “Dear darlin’, please excuse my writing. I can’t stop my hands from shaking, 'cause I’m cold and alone tonight.” _

Derek isn’t even sure he knows what is going on in the video. All he can take in at the moment is the pain behind the words, and the longing with every chorus. Even with the possibility that Stiles could have caused the accident, Derek still wants to give this ex a piece of his mind. Stiles is a good person, and doesn’t deserve so much pain. He should at least have some closure.

_ “I miss you and nothing hurts like no you. And no one understands what we went through. It was short. It was sweet. We tried.” _

Derek wants to fucking understand. 

_ “Oh, I can't cope. These arms are yours to hold.” _

Derek pauses the video to go see what the article had said, if maybe Stiles had given any further information as to where the inspiration came from, or if this Olly guy had any significant input with the writing process.

He finds nothing about Stiles past, but it says that Stiles wrote the song and then sold it to a new artist with  _ Argent Records _ because he felt it wouldn’t sound right if they put their signature rock sound to it. 

Simple. Plausible. To the point.

_ Lies. _

Derek huffs and resumes the video.

_ “And I miss you and nothing hurts like no you. And no one understands what we went through. It was short. It was sweet. We tried.” _

Derek doesn’t miss that the girl in the video doesn’t come back in the end.

_ “We tried.” _

Derek fingers the scar on the back of his head, a nervous twitch when he feels like he’s not in control, when he can’t figure something out.

He looks up to see if anyone else has made their way down to the lobby to see that he’s still alone, so he tries to pull up the song that’s up for the award this year. He doesn’t make it far before Scott and Isaac come down and plop into the sofa in front of him.

Scott cleans up well. 

Derek has been so used to him wearing logo tees and shorts that he almost forgot. 

Scott is [wearing ](http://www.mtv.com/content/ontv/vma/2012/photos/flipbooks/12-mtv-stars-at-the-awards/Tyler-Posey-PG-2.jpg)an ash grey suit, and blue sneakers which Derek isn’t even going to try and pretend he knows the designer of. 

He only knows his own because Allison pinned it to his bag with a note saying to memorize it. Still, somehow, he thought he had it memorized and threw the paper away, only to realize he has no earthly idea what the jacket is. 

When Scott shifts to turn and smile at Derek, he sees the graphic tee under the coat. Scott, staying true to his wardrobe as best he can. 

Derek gives him a smile with a tilt of his head, then turns his head toward Isaac.

Isaac [looks ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/7e/77/c9/7e77c914f19d000f6cbd2c8e4241a2b8.jpg)like he does every day. Sweater, and jeans. They look new though, so Derek doesn’t judge him much. There’s nothing to judge really because Isaac always looks clean, like someone a mother and father are praying their daughter bring home.

At that moment, Jackson and Boyd come down. 

Derek has to blink a few times before being able to take in the [ensemble ](http://cache2.asset-cache.net/gc/495397709-actor-sinqua-walls-attends-the-starz-power-gettyimages.jpg?v=1&c=IWSAsset&k=2&d=X7WJLa88Cweo9HktRLaNXkrVUna46PBMRQkVOLPZnNwDu%2F%2FMO3tZyXABJBfg2PrJ0u8xzkAsJm4Hpxbj%2FYtvoQ%3D%3D)Boyd has on. Derek wants to think Allison or Erica chose his suit, but the way Boyd carries himself in it, Derek is leaning toward believing that he picked it out himself. 

Boyd has a deep burgundy suit on, but it’s made of silk or something based on the shine. Boyd tilts his head at Derek before heading to a chair beside him and sitting to wait.

Jackson finishes flirting with the girl at the counter and finally turns so Derek can see what he’s got on. He could see the silver from the back, but he expects something out of the ordinary on the front. Jackson like to be the center of attention. 

When he turns Derek sees that the [suit ](http://cdn01.cdn.justjaredjr.com/wp-content/uploads/pictures/2014/06/haynes-glamour/colton-haynes-glamour-women-of-year-2014-02.jpg)is simple. Silver coat, white button up, and black jeans. The thing that makes Derek giggle is the bow tie around his neck and the ridiculous pattern of his loafers. However, he looks sharp. 

Allison comes down next taking a headcount trying to see how many of their group are missing. 

Derek sucks in a breath not used to seeing her out of sweats, or a blouse and dress pants. 

Allison works her ass off for their band, so she tries to stay comfortable. 

Derek has grown accustom to her messy buns, minimal make up if any, loose blouse, and sweats or slacks if she has to get off the bus. She spends her days on a laptop at the table on the bus scheduling and rescheduling. There’s usually a pen or a straw hanging out of her mouth or sticking in her hair, it’s endearing really.

Tonight though, she’s [wearing ](http://www.becauseiamfabulous.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/Crystal-Reed-Wearing-Naeem-Khan-2014-Costume-Designers-Guild-Awards1.jpg)a floor length gown, strapless, her shoulders pale against the dark black of the dress, and white flowers stitched all over it. It’s all contrast. Dark hair, pale skin. Black dress, white accents. 

It’s stunning.

She goes to join Scott, dropping a kiss to the top of his head, and turns her attention to her phone to answer emails. The fact that their garments compliment each other makes Derek grin.

While Derek’s distracted by the couple before him, Erica walks between the sofas, posing delicately, pouty eyes, a finger in her mouth, and faint sense of innocence.

Derek shakes his head, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Her [dress ](http://ilarge.lisimg.com/image/5691337/1118full-gage-golightly.jpg)is simple, with thin straps, short hem line, loosely hung, and glittering gold. Her hair is gently pulled back, and her makeup is natural. She looks nice, but it wasn’t at all what he was expecting. He knew she would wear something revealing, but he thought she would go all out and not tone it down like she did.

He hears Lydia before he sees her because she stumbles, based on the string of obscenities coming from behind him. He stands to go help her, and misses a step when he turns. He expected something elegant, or delicate, or… not  _ this. _

Derek should seriously stop assuming because he’s been surprised by almost everyone so far.

Lydia stands before him in a floor length gown, but there’s nothing modest about it. The [gown ](http://redcarpet-fashion.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/Holland-Roden-Omnia-Nightclub-At-Caesars-Palace-Grand-Opening-Weekend-With-Sean-Combs-and-Sarah-Hyland-08-662x993.jpg)is black netting and see through, where you can see a little black dress, skin tight, underneath. There are saturated leafs scattered around, and her hair is down and over her shoulder. 

She smiles at Derek, holding out her arm while she gathers the loose fabric in her other hand to lift from in front of her feet so she doesn’t plummet to her death.

Derek remembers an interview for  _ Fallout _ a few months back, and how they said that Lydia was the most clumsy person they had ever met, and Derek has seen for himself that this is in fact true. He walks her over to where he was sitting and allows her to take his place. 

The only person he hasn’t seen yet is Stiles.

Derek checks his watch and realizes they are running late, and one look at Allison tells him that she is well aware. He holds up a finger then starts jogging toward the elevator to go find his boyfriend.

He can say that now.

Even if he only says it in his head.

He can say it.

Even if he has his questions, and reservations, and doesn’t know anything about Stiles’ ex - they are together.

He hits the button for the elevator and waits, counting the blinks of the arrow above the door until they open. When it dings Derek steps forward and runs into none other than Stiles.

Stiles apologizes through a laugh, holding Derek by the arms unnecessarily long, and Derek furrows his brow.

“Why aren’t you ready?”

“What?” Stiles barks, then looks down at himself. “I am…”

Derek has just seen Boyd in a flashy red suit, Jackson in silver, Erica in Gold… he belatedly realizes he should have worn something with a shine to it, maybe a bright blue? He shakes his head, no what he’s wearing is fine. He prefers it.

Lydia in see through, Allison in an evening gown, and Scott in a suit of all things.

He cannot fathom that Stiles is wearing  _ this  _ to an awards show, not among the way their friends are dressed.

[Stiles ](http://digitalspyuk.cdnds.net/14/16/1280x1922/gallery_movies-mtv-movie-awards-2014-dylan-o-brien.jpg)has on a dark grey tee shirt, dark grey jeans, black boots tucked under the legs, and the leather jacket he curls up on the bus with occasionally.

Derek has seen Stiles wear everything he has on, before.

Stiles shoves his shoulder when he takes too long to respond. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re just wearing a jacket, shirt, and jeans too.” Stiles swallows straightening his jacket. “These things take hours and it pays to be comfortable, trust me.”

“If this was all you were going to wear, why did it take so long?” Derek asks walking backwards toward their group.

Stiles ears go red, and his eyes distance themselves, he’s not happy. “The label called me.” He shakes his head. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Derek can’t help but worry about it. He knows by now that when Stiles doesn’t elaborate it’s because it’s about his ex, or Kate. In this case, he knows it’s not the former. 

Derek sighs turning once Stiles catches up with him and they walk toward the doors where the rest of their friends are waiting and walk out to climb into the cars. 

Stiles spends the drive touching, and complimenting everyone’s clothes, and pointedly doesn’t look at Derek who knows he’s not hiding how badly he wants to know what happened on the call with Kate.

Stiles doesn’t allow him a second to corner him.

* * *

 

On the carpet Derek stays close to Stiles, either being interviewed with him and hounded about their finally confirmed relationship, or being interviewed separately but next to him. The rest of the group is spread out, but all within a few feet of each other. 

Derek notices how happy his friends are. This is their first award show, and he can see the nerves are getting them, but they are buzzing with excitement. Derek takes a moment to appreciate that he was able to help make this happen for them. That had been the goal that day in Kate’s office overlooking the city, as much as he hated being there, the goal was always to help his friends get what they wanted so badly in life. Derek felt he owed them that much after all they did for him after the accident.

Then, he wasn’t all too thrilled about the idea, never having wanted fame for himself, but as long as they were happy so was he.

Now? He can’t imagine his life any other way. 

Sure, his happiness was initially because his friends were so happy, and he met Stiles who he immediately became infatuated with just seeing him on stage at the small show so many months ago, but now he’s happy because of so much more.

He loves the travel and seeing new places and people every day. He loves the smell of the road, and hum of the asphalt under his feet. He likes being sardined with all of his friends in a small bus, safe from the world, and enjoying all the opportunities before them. 

He enjoys the energy that sticks to everyone he meets. He always had an affinity for reading other people's energy, the main factor in all of his life decisions because he always wanted to keep people happy, but now he doesn’t feel like he  _ has _ to make decisions like that anymore. 

His friends and Stiles’ are all happy, all the time. Sure they all have irritations, but nothing that Derek feels he has to accommodate. The fans and media haven’t made him uncomfortable, and he doesn’t feel like he ever has to lie or have a PR response for certain issues like most artists do. He’s just himself.

He enjoys the stage. He loves the searing hott spotlights that set his skin on fire and draws out all the toxins in his skin. He enjoys helping the roadies unload the trailers and set the stage before each show. He loves seeing the empty arena, quiet, and motionless during the soundcheck, and then hear it fill slowly at first and then all of a sudden as a landslide of people pour in. 

Even if he doesn’t have a lot to do with the writing process of most of their songs, he still enjoys being able to bridge the gap between his friends and the audience with his voice, it’s the least he can do. He really is working on songwriting though, and maybe one day he’ll write something of importance.

He’s just  _ happy. _

The interviewer in front of him, finally deams the lighting and camera angle appropriate and starts their short interview. She introduces him then leads with her first question. “So, Derek, is it safe to say this is your first Red Carpet?”

At this point Derek has been asked the same thing at least ten times, so he expects nothing different here. “It is actually.”

“What’s that like? I can’t even remember my first time.” She comments.

Derek forces a laugh, “It’s shell shocking. You never expect to actually make it when you spend years in a garage playing covers to other bands, and then you somehow end up here… and all you can do is pinch yourself.” 

“But you’ve been on tour with  _ Fallout Shelter  _ for most of the year, has it not sunk in yet?” She asks, like she doesn’t buy his innocence for a second.

He shrugs, “You would think so, but it’s just like a really long road trip. It’s things like this that shake you and make you realize what all you have. We are very lucky, and we owe a lot to  _ Fallout Shelter _ for giving us this opportunity.”

Suddenly, Derek is shoved by Stiles as he moves closer to him. “Pshhhh… the talent’s all you guys. We should be thanking you for starting all our shows off with a bang and making our job easier! Hell, one day we might be opening for you guys.”

Derek shakes his head, blushing, still not able to take compliments.

The interviewer jumps on the opportunity to interview one of the hottest couples on the carpet. “Awe, aren’t you guys cute.” She bats her eyes. “I’m sure everyone is dying to know what brought you together, and what exactly fanned the fire between you two.”

Stiles looks to Derek to answer. 

“Uhh..” Derek starts. “Stuff?” 

Stiles throws his head back in a full body laugh. “Yea, stuff. Lots of stuff.”

The interviewer looks a little deterred by their vague as shit answer and Scott stands waiting to be interviewed, so she wishes them luck in their categories and sends them along.

Stiles stays with Derek throughout the rest of the carpet, and Derek feels himself relax further with Stiles’ energy mixing with his.

They are asked a lot of the same questions but one finally stuns both of them to silence.

“Stiles, over the last year, no one has been able to get the story behind  _ Dear Darlin _ which won you the songwriter of the year award last year.”

Stiles huffs through his nose, with a small smirk to his lips.

“It was heart breaking, and the way you and Olly worked on that song made sure everyone felt your heartbreak, but no one can find any evidence of a past relationship of yours. Derek is actually the first public relationship you have ever had.”

Stiles nods his head, sucking his lips between his teeth.

“Your fans all over the world have spent hours upon hours analyzing your songs, and your themes lean toward one of two categories. Either it’s a song for your fans, offering them your strength and encouraging them not to give up, or it’s a song about a lover. But as I said, Derek is the first one you have publicly shared, and you haven’t written any new songs since you guys started touring.”

Stiles blinks rapidly, leaning in to try and figure out where the question is.

“So, my questions is actually for Derek.” She turns to Derek. “How does it feel to know that your boyfriend has had a relationship or relationships that have inspired so many award winning songs like the one tonight and he hasn’t written any for you?”

Derek looks over to see Stiles battling more emotions that Derek can catalogue, then drops his head, scratching behind his ear. 

Derek turns back toward the question that was far too loaded for a three minute interview. “We all have a history. I have no right to be upset with Stiles for having a past. I don’t expect songs, because I don’t need proof of our connection on display for everyone to see.” Derek clears his throat, more bothered by this than he’d like to admit. “Furthermore, Stiles probably hasn’t let the media in on any of his relationships because of inappropriate questions like this.”

She goes to defend herself but Stiles speaks up.

“It’s okay, Derek, it’s not that big a deal. I have been asked about my relationship status plenty throughout my career, and it’s true that a lot of my songs are about my ex, and I don’t plan on ever exposing who that person is unless they want me to. Uhh… it’s complicated… and uhh… I’m very lucky to be in the line of work I’m in because it gives me an outlet, you know? So, uhh, yeah. I’m happy where my life is, I have great friends, I get to do what I love, I have you…” Stiles looks over to where Scott is being interviewed next to them and Scott is rubbing his head. “What?” Stiles asks toward him.

Scott looks at him still rubbing his face. “I was just telling them how I can’t focus because I love your voice so much.”

Stiles chokes on a giggle, and scratches his chin some more, his body turned entirely from the interviewer. “Thanks, bro!” 

“It’s just so sexy, oh my God, I love it bro.” Scott laughs, making Stiles laugh harder.

By the time they are finished with their giggle fit, the interviewer's time is up and they are ushered along to the next one. 

After that, Allison sticks close, monitoring both their interviews and Scott’s and any time an interviewer asks something inappropriate she veto’s the question and they move on.

Derek realizes this isn’t anything new, and they really do lookout for each other. He also understands even more about what his mother meant back in the hospital.

She told him that he had to prove to Stiles that he could trust him, because Stiles lives in this world, and nothing is sacred or private. He’s worked hard to keep his skeletons in his closet, and all it takes is one person to out him.

Derek wants to earn that trust more than ever. He wants to be the gatekeeper of his demons and never let anyone poke at them again.

* * *

 

They all crowd into one row in the auditorium, and the ceremony begins shortly after everyone is seated. 

They sing and dance along to the performances, clap when the winners are announced, and Derek does his best not to worry about his nominations. 

Stiles holds his hand occasionally, happy to be there with him and share this experience. 

One by one, each member of  _ Fallout Shelter _ is dragged away to introduce a category, all of them relaxed on stage. 

Derek flinches when Stiles is dragged away and a filler takes his place so the audience looks full for the cameras. Derek feels alone without Stiles in his space.

Stiles walks onto the stage with Demi Lovato but he keeps a long distance from her, and is extra mindful of his position. Derek is confused, wondering if they have a history of some sort.

Demi looks behind her where Stiles is standing at least ten feet away. “What are you doing? Get over here!”

Stiles shakes his head slowly, pursing his lips and crossing his arms.

“Why not? Come here. Right now.” She demands pointing at the stage.

Stiles continues shaking his head. “I am not getting close enough to trip you. Your fans will have my head if I do it again!”

She rolls her eyes, “Is that what this is about?” She walks over and drags Stiles to the podium. “It was an accident, and I do not hold a grudge over that. This is me publicly telling everyone to let that go! Stiles and I are great friends and we are even planning to do a song together.”

Stiles nods, smiling. 

The audience laughs and Derek remembers Stiles mentioning many months ago how he had accidentally tripped Demi as she was accepting an award and that the fans had never let it go. It was his argument when Derek was opening up about how he felt without his memories and Stiles tried to reassure him with all the embarrassing things he may have forgotten.

They introduce the category, announce the winner, then exit the stage. 

Derek expects Stiles to make his way back to their seats but after ten minutes Derek starts to worry, until the lights dim and Rebel Wilson introduces Stiles and Christina Aguilera to sing the song which won Stiles’ songwriter of the year award. 

Derek is stunned at hearing that he had won again, that he misses the name of the song. The side stage lights up with a grand piano and Stiles seated on the bench.

Stiles changed clothes, and is now in a black tailored suit, and a button up white shirt with the top few buttons undone, and a loose tie hanging over his shoulders.

The room goes silent and Stiles starts playing the keys like they are an extension of his soul.

* * *

 

After Stiles exits the stage with Demi they hug and laugh, happy their gag went over well and didn’t fall flat. Then he’s told by the show runners that he won the songwriter award, and he nearly falls over. He wasn’t expecting to actually win... _ again. _

Last year, he won the award for  _ Dear Darlin _ and every time he hears it, he goes back to all those months after the accident, and how he called Derek’s cell almost every night when he had drank too much, just to hear his voice. The more he called, the grumpier Derek’s ‘hello’s’ were, and eventually he stopped answering altogether.

The song was too hard for Stiles to sing, that’s why he gave it away. He needed to write it for himself, but he had to let it go.

Like this song.

And he’s won again.

Meaning he has to sing it.

In front of Derek.

And not cry like a baby.

Allison walks over with a garment bag and tells him to get ready.

He’s not sure how he dressed himself, or how he found his way back to the performance stage.

* * *

 

The melody is soft, and Derek realizes he knows this song. You can’t turn on the radio without hearing it. He’s never heard Stiles sing it though.

_ “S[ay something](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmErRm-vApI), I'm giving up on you.” _ Stiles starts, arms drifting across the keys, head down, voice quiet and distant.  _ “I'll be the one if you want me to. Anywhere I would've followed you. Say something, I'm giving up on you.” _

Derek blinks, trying to understand what Stiles has been through. 

Christina walks out then and starts singing with him.  _ “And I... am feeling so small. It was over my head...I know nothing at all.” _

Derek notices that Stiles face shows little emotion, like he’s trying not to show weakness. Carefully void of expression.

_ “And I... will stumble and fall. I'm still learning to love...just starting to crawl.” _

Christina sings a little louder alongside his soft timbre.

_ “Say something, I'm giving up on you. I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.”  _

Derek hears the first crack in Stiles voice over that last line.

Christina comes in a little louder to cover his hiccup.  _ “Anywhere I would've followed you. Say something, I'm giving up on you.”  _

Stiles face has paled under the blue glow, and his resolve to not show emotion starts to break.

_ “And I... will swallow my pride.” Stiles lifts his head, eyes closed. “You're the one that I love...and I'm saying goodbye.” _

Derek takes in a deep breath. 

Stiles did let go.

Stiles sings louder, the chords in his neck straining. _ “Say something, I'm giving up on you! And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you… and anywhere I would've followed you!”  _ They sing at the top of their lungs, Stiles’ normally smooth voice cracking again, but he doesn’t relent.  _ “Oh-Ooh!”  _

Derek looks over to see Scott and Allison staring at him, but before he can question why Stiles voice demands his attention

_ “Say something, I'm giving up on you!”  _ Stiles shoulders hang low, his arms loose as they glide across the keys, but his face shows exactly how painful the song is for him.

Derek wants to believe that who ever Stiles loved in the past is okay, and that Stiles is okay, and that he has nothing to worry about if this person ever came back… but Stiles clearly loves them with his entire being and if they came back, Derek is almost sure that Stiles would choose them over him

_ “Say something, I'm giving up on you.”  _ Stiles voice is almost inaudible over the piano and violin, Christina’s being the only one ringing above.

_ “Say something…”  _ Stiles trembles, eyes glassy, and just before the lights go out, Derek watches Stiles bite his lips just before the tears fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there was a lot to take in with the introduction of another friend from Stiles' past, Stiles finally starting to open up about the details, all the wardrobes, the red carpet, the show, the songs.
> 
> It's a lot.
> 
> As always, You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Luh ya, cuties!


	15. #WeStandWithOrlando

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benefit Concert for Orlando, Florida.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys.  
> As I'm sure you all know, tragedy struck Orlando this past weekend, and we're all hurting.  
> This is my way of coping.  
> If this could be triggering for you, you can skip this chapter I INSIST you SKIP THIS CHAPTER if you could be triggered.  
> I tried to make it more about healing, but I was careful not to include too much plot, so that if you need to skip this and wait until the next update, the story will flow easily, just read down to the first DOUBLE lines and the next chapter will flow seamlessly.  
> If you are unsure if you will be triggered please see the end notes where I talk more about the content, and why I decided to write the chapter in the first place.

After Stiles’ performance of _Say Something_ at the award show, he went out one of the back entrances and took a town car back to the hotel alone. He just needed to get away as fast as possible.

He buried himself under the covers that still smelled of Derek from the night before, and reminded himself that the songs were from his past, they didn’t describe his current situation anymore, but it didn’t take the ache away in the least.

It still happened.

Each song is a tap into Stiles’ past. Bookmarks, if you will. Each time he hears one, or has to perform one, it turns the faucet on. Sometimes they drip a little, a reminder, but not overwhelming. Songs like tonight gush and overflow the small sink, and it takes a minute to clean up afterwards.

Those are the songs he generally gives to a new artist or sells. The few that he can’t control the flow of.

He just needed a few hours to get his head right, before he had to face Derek or anyone for that matter.

Stiles wakes up to Derek slipping onto the mattress in front of him. The room is still dark and there’s a faint glow coming in through the window from the bright city lights below. Stiles can only see the outline of Derek’s hair in front of him.

Derek must see that he opened his eyes because a finger comes up to gently pet the tip of Stiles’ nose in greeting.

Stiles huffs, closing his eyes again. “Sorry I left without telling you guys.”

Derek scoots a little closer, his breath fanning Stiles’ face. “It’s okay. We all understand.”

“I’m still sorry.” Stiles says, wanting nothing more than to crawl forward and wrap himself around Derek for comfort, but that’s selfish and he’s trying to be better. You can’t just abandon someone and expect them to cuddle you without a few answers first.

Derek shifts. “What can I do to help you?”

Stiles hesitates, not wanting to take advantage, but needing comfort none the less. “Would you…”

“Would I what?” Derek asks, slightly tentative.

Stiles exhales heavily, squeezing his eyes shut. “Would you… just… can you hold me?” He braves, hoping that Derek isn’t too worried about the ‘Why’ behind his disappearance.

Derek’s silent.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.” Stiles blurts feeling guilt wash over. “I just don’t want you to leave me alone tonight, but I don’t feel up to talking - I can’t - but you shouldn’t have to dea-”

“Stiles.” Derek breaks in. “It’s okay.” Derek starts moving the blankets around and slides under before he pulls Stiles forward, turning him around so Derek can wrap him in his arms and hold on tight.

Stiles heart skips a number of beats, and then he silently cries as he falls back asleep with Derek plastered to his back. If Derek notices, he doesn’t say anything, and doesn’t let go in the slightest.

* * *

 

* * *

 

When Stiles wakes up the next morning he finds himself still wrapped in Derek’s arms, and sweating bullets because he never took his clothes off the night before. 

As much as he would love to lie in bed all day, wrapped up in Derek’s _everything_ , he really needs to function like an actual adult.

He gently peels himself away and goes the bathroom to shower and wash up for the day.

He’s brushing his teeth when he sees the first tweet.

_50 Dead and 53 injured in shooting at Pulse, a gay nightclub in Orlando, FL. Largest shooting in U.S. history._

Stiles buckles over onto the counter, toothbrush falling from his mouth as he stares in horror.

Not only is this a tragedy, and he prays that he’s still dreaming, but his brain is screaming that Adore is in Orlando for Pride, and he knows she frequents that club because she has taken him on more than one occasion.

Stiles swallows the paste in his mouth and calls her.

It rings once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

He calls again.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

He calls again.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

Stiles doesn’t know how long he sits there, or when he sat down against the wall for that matter. He’s just been hitting redial and going to voicemail.

He becomes vaguely aware of Derek stumbling through the bathroom door, face pale, and his mouth is moving but Stiles doesn’t hear him.

Derek tries to take the phone from Stiles, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking, then trying to pull him into his chest.

Stiles still can’t hear what he’s saying but he needs his phone back. He has to get ahold of Adore. Stiles kicks, and claws at Derek until he releases the phone. Stiles sits back down against the wall, legs crossed, and redials Adore’s phone.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

Derek disappears through the door, apparently giving up on helping him. Stiles doesn’t blame him. He’s a mess, all the time, and Derek was bound to give up on trying to fix him eventually.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

Next thing Stiles sees is Lydia and Scott dropping into his space.

It’s like Stiles is sitting in front of a muted T.V. He’s aware of what is flashing across the screen, but he only has one thing on his mind, and that’s the ringing on his phone, and the desperation to hear Adore’s voice and confirm that she is okay.

Scott pulls him into his lap, and Lydia pets his face saying words Stiles still can’t hear.

Derek remains standing in the doorway, and scoots over when Isaac, Allison, and Finstock crowd into the bathroom as well, adding to the soap opera.

Stiles doesn’t understand why they all keep talking to him, it’s not like he’s listening. Don’t they understand that he needs to get ahold of Adore? It’s not that hard of a concept to grasp.

Luckily, no one tries to take the phone again and Stiles continues to redial.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

They move him to the bed, and he allows himself to be dragged along.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

They bring him a glass of water that he doesn’t even acknowledge.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

Finstock smacks his face a few times.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

They pin his free hand to the bed beside his hip, and he tastes blood from the hole he must have chewed in his thumb.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

Adore is fine.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

She’s going to answer any second.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

But what if she doesn’t?

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

Oh, God! What if Stiles lost one of his best friends?

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

Did he say goodbye?

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

Did he kiss her?

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_Voicemail._

Did he hug her?

Once.

Twice.

Three ti-

“What the fuck, Stiles? It’s 7 o’clock in the Goddamn morning.” Adore _finally_ answers.

Stiles falls off the bed, head spinning, and tears washing his face.

He hears everyone around him now, a loud chatter or concern crescendoing by the second.

“Stiles?!” Adore asks in a rush, realizing that Stiles is hyperventilating into the receiver. “Stiles, what’s wrong? Where are you?”

“You’re okay?” Stiles chokes.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Stiles, what’s wrong?” Adore begs.

Stiles chokes the words out. “The shooting. At Pulse. I thought…”

She gasps, and everyone around Stiles goes quiet. “A shooting?”

“Yea,” Stiles cries. “Someone killed 50 people last night at Pulse and I know you’re in Orlando for pride and I was afraid that you....”

Adore chokes on a few words of her own. “I’m okay, Stiles. I just got into town early this morning. I’m okay.”

Stiles nods, in a pile on the floor. “I couldn’t... if something happened to you.”

“Nothing happened. I’m okay. Don’t worry. Take a deep breath.” She reassures.

Stiles does as he’s told.

She tells him that she needs to let him go and call her friends and make sure they are all okay, and that she will try to come see him very soon.

After they hang up Stiles limbs go limp, and he closes his eyes, exhaustion washing over him.

He wakes up surrounded in heavy bodies. He opens heavy eyelids to find Scott, Isaac, Allison, Lydia, and Derek piled on top, and around him on the mattress. Finstock is sitting in a chair next to the foot of the bed. All of them sleeping.

Derek must be the only one awake because he starts scratching at Stiles’ scalp across the bed. “Feeling better?”

Stiles climbs over Isaac and ontop of Derek to rest his head against his chest. He feels like he hasn’t slept in a week. “What happened?” He asks, because his memory is sort of hazy where it comes to specifics.

“I woke up and you were in the bathroom so I was waiting for you to come back to bed, but I started hearing you hyperventilate, and I ran in there to check on you when you didn’t answer me. I tried to calm you down, and figure out what was wrong, but you wouldn’t listen and attacked me when I tried to take your phone.” Derek continues scratching the back of Stiles’ head, the other hand around the middle of his back.

Stiles takes a shaky breath, guilt taking over.

“Then I woke up Lydia because I didn’t know what the fuck to do...” Derek admits.

Stiles can hear the unsteady beat of his heart where his head lies on Derek’s chest.

Derek tells him how they were all trying to figure out what was wrong, but he wouldn’t answer. He just sat there, and redialed over and over, they thought his dad had died or something. They couldn’t get him to drink any water, and none of the normal things they did for a panic attack worked.

They had no idea what was going on until almost a half hour later when Adore answered the phone and Stiles voiced what had happened. After that, he fell asleep on the floor and they dragged him into bed, and got on twitter to see what had happened.

They were all exhausted from the event that they all decided to take a nap, and piled into the bed with Stiles.

Stiles expressed how sorry he was, but Derek, ever the understanding saint, told him it was okay and that he had every right to react the way he did.

They stayed like that awhile.

Stiles listening to the sound of Derek’s heartbeat.

Derek’s fingers scratching at his scalp.

Breathing together.

Alive.

Eventually, Stiles stands up and goes to the bathroom to shower, now feeling dirtier than before with all the stress sweat dried to his skin.

He comes up with an idea as the spray pelts at his shoulders.

* * *

 

“So, is it something we can do?” Stiles asks Allison again.

They’ve been going in circles with all the reasons it could go wrong, and then working out all the kinks.

She chews on the pen in her mouth. “Yes, I think we can. I just have to make all the arrangements.” She scratches her head with the end of the pen, looking down at her laptop as she reads something. “The venue tonight is still busy making arrangements for more security because of the Christina Grimmie shooting, but we should be able to do it by the end of the week.”

Stiles swallows, having almost forgotten.

Christina was a relatively new artist and during her meet and greet, someone pulled a gun and killed her.

Some celebrities are cancelling shows and meet and greets afraid for their safety, but Stiles never plans to do that. They are just adding more security and spending a pretty penny on a number of metal detectors.

Allison clears her throat, pulling the pen from between her teeth. “I’ll arrange for an interview today, I’ll have them come here, and you guys can announce the plan to the public, and I will send out an email to all my contacts. Then we can go from there.”

Stiles nods, and gives her a firm hug before getting up to pack his things.

* * *

 

“I’m here with the members of _Fallout Shelter_ with a special announcement.” The young journalist introduces before turning to Lydia to begin the announcement.

“This morning we woke up to the news of what happened in Orlando last night. We are devastated, and our hearts go out to everyone in the LGBTQ community and want you to know we are here for you, and want to help.” She rubs her neck, a flush of emotion rising to her skin, before clearing her throat and continuing. “All proceeds from our next month of shows will go toward the families of those lost, and the foundations that are still trying to make sure that all the coming events and rallies are _safe_.”

Scott speaks next. “We haven’t forgotten about what happened to Christina Grimmie either, and want our fans to know that we have taken the necessary precautions and are doing everything we can to make sure our shows are _safe_.”

Isaac expands on that. “We’ve added more metal detectors and security, and we are _not_ cancelling any shows or meet and greets. We promise that if you come to our show, you will be safe, and there will not be any guns or weapons that can cause anyone any harm.”

Stiles speaks finally. “We are planning a benefit concert, and we would like to invite any artist who would like to be a part of it, to please contact _Argent Records_ , or Allison directly. This is a very difficult time for everyone and we would love for you to join us in a celebration of life, and family, and friends. As well as a night to remember all those we have lost along the way. Again, it will be safe, and again, all the proceeds will go toward Orlando’s recovery.”

Stiles swallows, unable to say anything else without crying all over again.

The journalist asks further questions for clarity on the details, and Allison takes over.

* * *

 

They are on their bus quicker than they ever have been before after that night’s show. They skip going out to a bar after, and they hightail it onto the highway to get headed toward Michigan for the Benefit Concert.

The benefit is being held in the largest arena they could find in the states at Michigan Stadium in Ann Arbor where they can hold up to 107,000 people.

The show was sold out in a day.

Allison announces quickly, barely looking up from her laptop that has been glued to her all week. “Green Day has confirmed their spot in the lineup tomorrow.”

The bus erupts into a loud chorus of excitement.

Derek is sitting next to Stiles with their fingers laced between them. “I still can’t believe you made this happen.” Derek whispers to Stiles.

Stiles scoffs, rolling his eyes. “For the last time _I_ didn’t do anything. I just wanted to do something and then basically threw it in Ally’s lap and said ‘Make it happen!’” Stiles laughs, “She’s the only reason this ever had a chance of working.” Stiles looks at her lovingly as she continues to tap away at her computer and take phone call after phone call.

“Okay..” Derek agrees, “But, you are doing a lot. Can you guys even afford this? I mean, this is a _massive_ event, and you refuse to take any of the proceeds even for the cost of everything.”

Lydia must have been listening in because she speaks up from where she’s seated at the end of the sofa. “We don’t have to worry about that. The stadium isn’t charging us for the venue, just insurance.”

Scott adds, “And the other artists have been sending _Argent Records_ thousands of dollars to help.”

Stiles smiles. _Everyone_ was helping with this. “Yea, between our funds, and everyone else’s, all the insurance, equipment, security, and vendors, have all been covered.” Stiles rubs the top of Derek’s head. “You don’t have to worry, boo. We’re going to be okay, and won’t be filing bankruptcy any time soon.”

Isaac jumps in, “Doritos is even getting in on it with Rainbow Doritos for the event, they are just going to give them out for free so everyone has food. Vitamin water, too.”

Derek smiles, eyes drifting.

“Oh my God.” Erica gasps from the floor where she’s lying on her stomach with her phone. “People are already lining up around the stadium. The line is a mile long right now.” She lifts her phone to show the pictures on twitter.

Jackson’s jaw drops. “Holy shit!” He pulls out his phone to get on twitter too.

Lydia shifts and leans against Stiles’ side, scrolling through her twitter feed so Stiles can see too.

They all know that they should be sleeping because it’s well after midnight and they have an insanely strenuous day ahead, but they are all buzzing with excitement and none of them are near ready for slumber.

* * *

 

Stiles wakes up, still pressed to Derek’s side, and Lydia to his. He woke up to the sound of music.

_“[Mistreated](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocDlOD1Hw9k)_ _, misplaced, misunderstood. Miss 'No way, it's all good'. It didn't slow me down.”_

It’s Pink, and if Stiles didn’t know the words he wouldn’t have known what song was playing over the screams deafening the receiver on someone’s phone as they recorded.

_“Mistaken, always second guessing. Underestimated, look I'm still around!”_

Stiles nudges his foot at Isaac who’s leaned against the couch watching the video.

Isaac shifts his arm so Stiles can see the shaky footage from someone at the show.

_“Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel? Like you're less than fucking perfect!”_

You can hear the person filming screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs.

_“Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel! Like you're nothing, you're fucking perfect to me!”_

The video cuts off, and Isaac remains still for a moment. “I still can’t wrap my head around what happened.” Isaac admits.

Stiles sighs, trying not to think about it himself. “I know.”

“I want to do more, ya know?” Isaac groans, before continuing sarcastically. “Yipee! We’re putting on a show. Big deal.”

Stiles nudges him again with his foot. “Hey, this is helping a lot of people, and bringing everyone together in a _safe_ place. This is a good thing. It’s the best we can do right now.”

Stiles swallows, he’s gone over it a thousand times in his head and he doesn’t know what else they can do. They have ensured that it _is safe_ , and he hopes that with the fifty or so artists in the line up, that they can help the mass of people heal, or at least forget how unkind the world is for at least a few minutes.

“I know.” Isaac scrolls down on his feed and plays a few more clips from Pink’s time slot.

Stiles wishes they didn’t have to be late, but they promised not to cancel any shows, and you can only move so fast between states.

However, the Benefit is being televised, and Stiles already had Danny set his DVR to record it, so he will see it eventually. For now, he settles for the small clips littering social media.

Another shaky cell phone recording starts, closer to the stage and Stiles can see Pink jumping, with a rainbow bandana tied around her chest as a shirt.

_“[So, so what? ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJfFZqTlWrQ)I'm still a rock star! I got my rock moves! And I don't need you!” _

She skips to the other side of the stage, her backup dancers trailing behind her. _“And guess what? I'm having more fun! And now that we're done! I'm gonna show you tonight!”_

She holds the microphone toward the audience, letting the deafening roar of the audience sing back at her.

_“I'm alright, I'm just fine! And you're a tool! So, so what? I am a rock star! I got my rock moves! And I don't want you tonight!”_

“Hell, yea!” She yells back at them before starting the next verse.

Stiles checks his phone for the time and realizes they still have another three hours before they even get to Michigan, so he closes his eyes and tries to get a little more rest.

* * *

 

Derek wakes up to Isaac watching videos in the floor and makes out one of the songs Erica sang so many times back in the garage, trying to convince them that she could be the next female rapper.

“ _[Starships ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SeIJmciN8mo)were meant to fly! Hands up, and touch the sky! Can't stop, 'cause we're so high! Let's do this one more time!” _

Derek smiles at how in a few hours he’s going to be surrounded by hundreds of artists trying to inspire an arena full of people not to give up, to express that they are there for their fans. That no one is alone.

Boyd put forth hours of work the past week writing a few songs for the show, and Derek is happy as pie to say that he helped. He had a few lines scratched out again and again in a notebook, but Boyd took one look at them and managed to weave them into the songs.

The band has practiced them, and ironed out all the kinks, and now Derek is counting down the minutes until they get to contribute to the healing in the arena.

Isaac plays another video, it’s from someone backstage at the show, and Derek can see the back of the performer. They look like they are wearing some kind of pleather, or plastic, and there are toys all over the stage.

_“[To my homegirls ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LrUvu1mlWco)here with the big butts, shaking it like we at a strip club. Remember only God can judge us! Forget the haters cause somebody loves ya!” _

The camera pans, showing the hoard of people waving flags, and signs in the air.

_“So la da da di we like to party! Dancing with Molly! Doing whatever we want! This is our house! This is our rules!”_

The camera turns back to the artist and Derek realizes now it’s Miley Cyrus, as she leans down to grab hands in the pit.

_“And we can't stop, and we won't stop!”_

Only another hour and they cross state lines.

* * *

 

Stiles wakes up looking for the phone that is making so much white noise, but everyone is silent and looking out the windows of the bus.

“How far away are we?” Boyd asks from down the hall.

Allison answers. “Half an hour at least.”

Stiles turns to Lydia. “Is that…”

“Yep.” She pops, eyes just as wide.

Stiles peels himself off the couch and goes to look out a window, where he sees clusters of people adorned in glitter, color, or no shirts at all, walking in the direction of the stadium. If it’s a half hour drive for them, how far are they walking?! “Can we-” Stiles starts to ask.

“No.” Allison snaps.

“But they have such a long way to walk!” Stiles whines.

Allison breathes through her nose, “We go through this all the time. It’s not safe. We aren’t picking up random people. I’m sorry, honey.”

Stiles pouts, but still clicks open the window so he can hear the chatter better outside. He takes in everyone that they pass and one shirt in particular makes him giggle.

_Some Dudes Marry Dudes. Get Over It._

Stiles snaps a picture before it’s too late and uploads it to Twitter, just barely avoiding tagging Derek.

* * *

 

As they get closer to the stadium, they start hearing the bass blanket the city in a low hum. The scream of the crowd setting all nerve endings on fire with energy.

The streets are littered with people, and the bus can hardly move until a few police cruisers make their way to them to escort them to the closed off road that leads to the back of the arena to let the artists in.

Stiles takes in all the shirts and face paint, and all the declarations of ‘This is who I am, take it or leave it.’ in everything they wear.

Stiles snaps another picture of a graphic tank that makes him smile.

_Still Queer. Still Here._

Stiles listens as Erica plays different videos from the show until they make it the last few minutes to the stadium.

 _“[So you say](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QCxyns1lrg)...It's not okay to be gay...Well I think you're just evil.” _ Lily Allen sings. _“You're just some racist who can't tie my laces. Your point of view is medieval.”_

Stiles finds himself singing along through the window as he watches all the smiling faces pass by. _“Fuck you! Fuck you very, very much! Cause we hate what you do! And we hate your whole crew! So please don't stay in touch!”_

The video cuts out but Stiles sings the chorus again and Jackson, Scott, and Isaac join in needing a release for their pent up energy.

* * *

 

The bus finally pulls up and Allison starts ushering them all out of the bus onto a small red carpet that has been set up, where there must have been interviews and photographs at one point, but since they are over four hours late, everyone has cleared out. The only remaining people on the carpet are security, and at the end stands a police officer and a metal detector.

Stiles gladly empties his pockets and steps through without argument, allowing the officer on the other side to wand him.

This is what they wanted, first and foremost, _security_.

They make their way through at least five more metal detectors, but none of them grumble, or sigh, or complain. They are all safe.

Each entrance they pass through grows louder than the last, as more and more people are packed into smaller spaces. When they finally make it to the open area behind the stage, there are people zipping all over the place.

Stiles feels like he’s in one of those cartoons where a character finds itself in the middle of a freeway and cars are zipping by in blurs of color.

There’s loud chatter everywhere, with varying levels of urgency.

They are making their way to the edge of the stage following the sound of an upbeat song that Stiles has always wanted to see live.

 _“[Dirty dirty dirty ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOf3kYtwASo)dirty dirty dirty sucker! You think I can't get hood like you, you motherfucker!” _ Jessie J sings and Stiles can barely see her between the crowds already pressing in at the edge of the stage.

Stiles wishes he could see better, but they can’t get there fast enough.

_“I can do it like a brother, do it like a dude! Grab my crotch, wear my hat low like you. Do it like a brother, do it like a dude! Grab my crotch, wear my hat low like you-”_

Their path is cut off by a short man with hair askew around a headset, and a clipboard held firmly over his forearm. “You finally decided to show I see.” He greets angrily. “Name’s Marty, I’m the stage manager today, and the one responsible for getting you overpaid, over exposed, spoiled artists on stage on schedule, and make sure there aren’t any hiccups in the line up.”

Stiles looks to Allison to see if they should be insulted, but she’s hiding a laugh.

She’s the one who has made all the arrangements for this, and Stiles is pretty sure she hired this guy for this reason. No room for pushovers today.

“ _Fallout Shelter,_ you’re number thirty-four in the lineup, going on right after _Adore Delano.”_  He turns to Derek, “ _Were!_ You go on after them.”

Jackson throws a fist in the air, “Ha! Now you guys open for us!”

“Shut up.” The short man cuts, with a hand in Jackson’s face. “I expect you to be standing by that table-” He points to a craft table by the stage entrance, “-when the artist before you starts so there isn’t delay when they finish.”

They all nod, trying to resemble a group of semi professional adults.

“One last thing.” He adds, writing on his board. “Since this is televised, don’t pull any shit. Go over to that table over there and give them the songs you plan to sing, and the lyrics so they can bleep anything out for the home viewers.”

They nod again, and the man spots another artist in need of a lecture and rushes over yelling before he even reaches them.

Finstock, who actually has the day off but is tagging along for the show, turns to the group of them. “And you think _I’m_ bad.” He laughs. “Actually, I should shadow him and see if I can learn anything. I’ve never seen you guys not argue back!”

Stiles laughs as Finstock weaves through the throng of people to find his new mentor.

When they finally make it to the stage, Jessie is onto another song.

 _“[Oh, so you think ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KsxSxF3JKeU)you know me now!” _ Jessie struts across the stage, knees high, her dancer's following her in similar fashion. _“Have you forgotten how? You would make me feel when you dragged my spirit down?”_

Stiles finally sees the crowd and his heart stops. He has never seen so many people in his entire life.

_“But thank you for the pain! It made me raise my game! And I'm still rising, I'm still rising!”_

The song continues and Stiles closes his eyes, pulling Derek close and breathes in the energy around him of all his people, and supporters, safe from the outside world.

* * *

 

When Adore shows up she gets the same lecture from Marty the stage manager and Stiles stands back smiling until she can get around him and make it over to him. By the look on her face she’s just as amused, but not new to the treatment.

Stiles has been to a few of her club shows, and those stage managers don’t take any shit either. Stiles knows that’s because Drag Queens are late to _everything!_ So the stage managers have to strong arm the talent each night.

When she’s released from the stare of Marty, she skips over to Stiles and gives both him and Derek a tight hug. “Missed you, fuckers.”

Derek looks taken aback by the hug, but he returns it, a blush rising to his ears.

Stiles winks at him before responding to her. “Always missing you, boo.”

She rolls her eyes then loops her arms over both of their shoulders and turns toward the stage, so what did I miss?

* * *

 

They are all piled on the floor watching the show from the side when a young, slim, man in uniform walks over with a stack of chairs. “I thought you guys might want these.” He says easily holding out the chairs.

Isaac stands up helping to spread the chairs out. “Thanks, I was beginning to lose feeling below the waist.”

“No problem,” The green eyed cutie responds, and holds out his hand to Isaac. “Parrish, Jordan Parrish.”

“Isaac, Isaac Lahey.” Isaac laughs, shaking the offered hand.

Lydia seems to have perked up, and stands up hip cocked more than usual. “What brought you here today?” She asks.

Jordan looks at her, a smile lighting his face when he answers. “I was hired on as security.”

“Oh, so you’re here to protect me then?” She bats her eyes, and wow, not subtle at all.

Stiles is taken a little aback because he can’t remember the last time Lydia flirted with anyone. He is a cutie though.

Jordan dips his head bashfully, “Only if you need me to, ma’am.”

She clicks her tongue. “Please, call me Lydia.”

Stiles turns his head to see Scott looking at her much like he had just been.

Scott sees Stiles looking at him and mouths, ‘is she flirting?’ in horror.

Stiles shrugs and looks back at the stage. It’s about time Lydia let herself relax and maybe get laid.

 _“S[he says I smell like safety and home.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NhqH-r7Xj0E)” _ Mary Lambert starts with one of Stiles’ favorite songs. _“I named both of her eyes "Forever" and "Please don't go"”_

Stiles looks out at the audience again, signs up everywhere.

_Hold hands. Not guns._

_We have every right to be angry._

_Kissing doesn’t kill. Greed and Indifference do._

_Stop Killing Us_

Stiles stomach churns, he’s been trying hard not to think about what happened, but he can’t ignore the reality. He’s part of this community, and in the spotlight, he gets hate all the time, but he’s mostly protected by his security that follows him around everywhere. These people can’t even go to the corner store without worry.

_“I could be a morning sunrise all the time, all the time yeah. This could be good, this could be good.”_

Stiles twists his neck to look at Derek beside him.

Derek has his head tilted back, and eyes closed as he listens to the song.

Derek has taken everything fairly well since the accident. He briefly told Stiles how when it happened he was sad of course for those who were affected, but it took him a few hours to realize he was a part of the community that was affected. He may not have actually slept with Stiles yet, but he wants too, and he knows that he still finds women attractive. It led into a small conversation over what Derek’s sexuality was and they settled on Bisexual.

Stiles didn’t further confuse him with the fact that he is basically the poster child for Demisexual, but no one needs to worry about that because Derek isn’t going to have to try and find anyone else ever again if Stiles has anything to say about it.

_“I can't change, even if I tried. Even if I wanted to! And I can't change, even if I tried. Even if I wanted to… My love, my love, my love, my love!”_

Stiles pets Derek’s thumb from where they are laced together, and Derek opens his eyes to look down at their fingers, before looking up to see Stiles grinning at him.

Derek leans over and presses their heads together.

“I love you.” Stiles whispers where only they can hear.

Derek smiles, closing the distance between them to kiss Stiles gently.

Stiles can taste the sweat on Derek’s lip and he finds himself resisting the urge to drag Derek away and lick the salt from his skin.

_“She keeps me warm, she keeps me warm!”_

Stiles reminds himself that after this event is over he has to get back on track with telling Derek the truth, and stop making excuses.

 _“What's your middle name? Do you hate your job? Do you fall in love too easily?”_ Mary continues, with the audience singing in a hum over the sound system. _“What's your favorite word? Do you like kissing girls?”_

Stiles sings along, head resting on Derek’s shoulder. _“Can I call you baby?”_

Derek presses the side of his head down tighter, scrubbing Stiles’ scalp with his stubble.

Stiles can’t let this go.

* * *

 

Adore is finally summoned to the stage and Stiles stands to record pieces of her performance for Snapchat and twitter.

She starts by addressing the audience who just calmed down from Sia and David Guetta’s Titanium.

“There will be days when you will feel weighed down. There will be events that will make it feel impossible to fly.” She clears her throat and the audience goes quiet. “But we will not be kept grounded. We will leave no one behind. Should you find yourself unable to fly, we will be each other’s wings.” She lifts her arms is a delicate span of wings. “We will uplift the voices that need it most. We will be the “helpers” so sorely needed. We will prove that one act of kindness outweighs 1000 atrocities born of hate.  For our flock is _strong_ , and you _belong_.”

The crowd screams, and Adore smiles, blowing kisses.

Stiles fights the emotion bubbling inside him.

The music starts after that and Adore graces the stage with delicate movements.

 _“[My walls are crashing down,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0dIz0oSCZ8) and I can feel the light of day. The sun is shining down on me.” _ She looks up at the setting sun. _“I fought through all the doubt. I walked the fire for a flame. It's burning more than yesterday…”_

The music breaks down, and she sways as the tempo increases, then starts jumping with the chorus, the crowd jumping with her, fists held high.

_“Bold as love, We're bold as love! Can't get enough! We're bold as love!”_

Stiles bobs his head as he records her for snap-chat, and even grabs a video of Jackson dancing with a young singer to the side, trying to make Lydia jealous now that she’s found interest in Jordan. Stiles shakes his head because the last thing Lydia does is get jealous.

* * *

 

Adore exits the stage and the lights dim down and Stiles looks out at the setting sun, as a microphone is handed to him and Scott, Isaac, and Lydia make it out onto the stage.

Stiles shakes out his arms, prepping himself for possibly the most important performance of his life.

The music starts, his friends more attuned to their instruments than normal, wanting to make this as good as they can.

 _“[Put on your war paint.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9kP0gO48HLY)” _ Stiles starts from back stage, then bursts out running to the front of the stage. _“You are a brick tied to me that's dragging me down. Strike a match and I'll burn you to the ground. We are the jack-o-lanterns in July setting fire to the sky! He-here comes this rising tide!”_

Stiles looks at the rainbow of color before him, fists held high, as the flames spout from the stage with the drums.

 _“So come on.”_ Stiles bites. _“Put on your war paint.”_

This is war. For all of them. Constantly attacked from all ends.

_“Cross walks and crossed hearts and hope-to-dies. Silver clouds with grey linings.”_

Stiles taps at his chest, eyes closed, kneeling at the front of the stage. _“So we can take the world back from the heart-attacked. One maniac at a time we will take it back! You know time crawls on when you're waiting for the song to start! So dance alone to the beat of your heart!”_

The music grows louder and Stiles starts jumping with the audience, smiling ear to ear at all the joy they express.

_“Hey young blood! Doesn't it feel like our time is running out? I'm gonna change you like a remix! Then I'll raise you like a phoenix! Wearing our vintage misery, no, I think it looked a little better on me!”_

He holds the microphone out to the audience, gasping in air through his wide mouth, smiling. No matter how many people sing his words back at him, it never hits him any softer. This is important. He is making a difference.

 _“I'm gonna change you like a remix!”_ They sing back at him. _“Then I'll raise you like a phoenix!”_

* * *

 

Derek watches Stiles on stage. The ease in which he performs, Derek can only dream of matching. He knows he’s improved monumentally since that very first performance of _Miss Jackson_ at Scott’s party the night they signed the contract, but he’s nowhere near as at home as Stiles is on stage.

Derek listens to Stiles sing _Phoenix,_ like he has so many times this past year.

This sends Derek’s thoughts back to the interview on the red carpet before the award show and how they pointed out that all of _Fallout’s_ songs leaned one way or the other. Derek had only really acknowledged the songs about his ex, but never thought too much about the other theme.

Stiles already has an archive of songs that they have written for the fans, for those with lower voices, those who felt they were alone. Stiles just had to grab a couple songs from his past albums for tonight’s show, unlike Derek’s band.

Boyd worked around the clock writing two new songs for the show tonight, because all of their songs were more party based, and they needed it to mean more.

Scott and Isaac pull stools center stage and they all sit down with acoustic instruments for their second song.

* * *

 

Stiles buys time by addressing the stadium. “It has been an _honor_ to honor those who were injured and killed and to be surrounded by our community and our allies. I am filled to the brim with love and encouragement and I’m so proud of who I am. I hope you all feel the same way too.”

Stiles looks around and sees the pain reflecting back at him, but there is hope. The shooter took a lot away from them, but they can’t take _this_.

Isaac hands Stiles another guitar and Stiles starts playing as the words trickle out of his mouth.

_“[When Rome's in ruins](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B-XUjmkrSe8), we are the lions free of the coliseums!” _

The sun has nearly set, and small battery operated candles fill the stands and begin swaying.

_“In poisoned places, we are anti-venom. We're the beginning of the end.”_

Isaac harmonizes from where he sits next to Stiles.

_“Tonight? The foxes hunt the hounds. It's all over now. Before it has begun...and we've already won!”_

Lydia and Scott join in.

_“We are wild! We are like young volcanoes! We are wild, Americana exotica, do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby? Yeah!”_

Stiles takes in the tear streaked faces on the large monitors placed around the stadium, but hope radiates below as they all sing at the top of their lungs.

_“Come on make it easy. Say I never mattered. Run it up the flagpole! We will teach you how to make boys next door out of assholes!”_

Scott laughs, as always. Originally, there wasn’t a laugh there, but no matter how many times they sang the song, Scott always found that line funny, so they kept it in the recording.

They repeat the chorus a few more times, swaying with the candle light in the audience.

When they finish and take their bow, blowing handfuls of kisses, Stiles finally feels like he can breathe again.

* * *

 

 _“T[onight we are victorious](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KE_UcDtYBXg). Champagne pouring over us. All my friends we’re glorious.” _ The speakers play over the audience, and Derek widens his stance at the front of the stage ready to sing this song live for the first time.

 _“Tonight we are victorious. Oh-oh-oh-oh, victorious. Oh-oh-oh-oh!”_ Derek holds the note, purging all his nerves through the action. He falls forward slightly, out of breath because he smokes far too much and swallows another lungful of air to start the first chorus.

 _“Double bubble disco queen headed to the guillotine. Skin as cool as Steve McQueen, let me be your killer king!”_ He nods his head with a smile as the crowd closest to him start dancing.

 _“It hurts until it stops, we will love until it's not. I'm a killing spree in white, eyes like broken Christmas lights. My touch is black and poisonous.”_ Derek finds himself dancing, making faces at the crowd easier than he does each night on tour.

 _“And nothing like my punch-drunk kiss.”_ He wiggles his head quickly. _“I know you need it, do you feel it? Drink the water, drink the wine!”_

This song, to Derek, is about wanting to have a good time with friends, even though you know the world is a mess, and you’re no better.

_“Oh we gotta turn up the crazy! Livin' like a washed up celebrity! Shooting fireworks like it's the fourth of July! Until we feel alright!”_

The music breaks down, and Derek folds himself in half, then stretches back with the next set of notes. _“Until we feel alright!”_

Derek makes use of the entire stage throughout the rest of the song, dances with Erica, and Jackson, and catches Stiles watching him once or twice. Derek’s used to this of course, but the intensity of Stiles’ gaze always sets him on fire.

* * *

 

When the music ends for Victorious, Derek grabs a towel to wipe his face down and looks over to Stiles who seems just as flushed as he is.

Derek narrows his eyes at him, silently asking why he’s blushing, and Stiles shifts his stance, and Derek can see a very visible line in his pants. Derek turns his thumb on himself raising one eyebrow, and Stiles nods, not ashamed in the slightest.

Stiles points at Derek, wiggles his hips, and fans his face with a low whistle.

Derek giggles, understanding that his dancing got him all hot and bothered. He’s going to have to file that away for further investigation.

Boyd taps them in on the drums and Derek runs to the edge of the stage where there is a metal tower holding up the stage, and climbs halfway up, holding on by one arm as he lets himself sway out.

_“O[h! A moment ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yhz3iBd9p-k)you'll never remember, and a night you'll never forget!” _

The crowd screams and Derek watches all the phones turn his way to record. He may flex more than necessary to hold his weight.

He’s stunned a moment when he sees a large banner further back in the audience.

##  **_KILLING US WON’T ERASE US._ **

It takes him a second to recover. Sure, they’re all having a good time right now, and as long as they stay at the show, they are safe, but the second they all leave...Derek stops his train of thought and focuses on taking their minds off it too.

_“All you sinners stand up, sing hallelujah! Show praise with your body! Stand up, sing hallelujah!”_

This was the song that he and Boyd spent the most time on. The other was like a bridge between their normal party songs, and the necessary tone of the show. This one was all about accepting who you are, any mistakes you’ve made, and making the best of it.

_“And if you can't stop shaking, lean back, let it move right through ya! Say your prayers, say your prayers, say your prayers!”_

Derek hooks a leg into the lattice work of the tower, and let's go from where he’s holding on with his arm, body supported by his core.

 _“My life started the day I got caught,”_ Derek holds the microphone with one hand, and places a hand over his chest with the other. _“-Under the covers with secondhand lovers.”_

This was one of the lines Derek had written down in a journal, but could never figure out how to put it into a song, because he felt it should be about said lover, but he couldn’t remember them of course.

This life of his, on the road, touring with his friends, and singing to hoards of people every night? This all started because of the accident. If he never got in the accident, he never would have met his friends, or became what he is today.

He was in the accident because apparently he cheated on Kate, so the line was his way of acknowledging that he had an affair.

 _“Oh, tied up in pretty young things. In a state of emergency, who was I tryna be?”_ Derek still doesn’t know, and may never know.

He focuses back on the rainbow of color before him. _“Then the time for being sad is over. And you miss 'em like you miss no other! And being blue is better than being over it, over it!”_

This was for those affected by the massacre. They couldn’t bring them back, and sometimes you need a little time to cope, and be sad, you can’t just turn it off.

He sees a few faces contort with the unexpected rush of emotion, and Derek rushes to sing the chorus again and encourage them to heal, even if only for a moment.

Derek climbs down finally and grabs hands in the audience as he sings another verse, squeezing each hand tight, wishing they were hugs.

So many people, just looking for a way to be okay, and Derek can see how everything that they and all the other artists have tried to do today has worked. At least a little bit.

Derek runs a hand through his hair. _“No one wants you when you have no heart and I'm sitting pretty in my brand new scars and you'll never know if you don't ever try again! So let's try! Let's try! Let's try!”_

Derek repeats the chorus again and is stunned to see that the crowd sings it back at him, he didn’t expect people to catch on so quickly.

Derek tells himself again, that this is where he belongs, and he’s never giving it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **For those checking to see if they may be triggered**  
> Stiles wakes up to the news on twitter, and has a panic attack because Adore is in Orlando. Everyone surrounds him, trying to calm him down, but he doesn't hear them. He just has to get a hold of Adore. ADORE IS FINE! Then we go on to plan a Benefit concert for Orlando and celebrities all over get involved. There are signs, and tears, and heartbreaking truths, but they are all together, and safe, and trying to cope.  
> **
> 
> When I heard the news Sunday night it took a few hours for it to sink in. I just couldn't believe... I couldn't. I found myself lying in bed crying all night, and at work on Monday I couldn't even function. I looked around at the world and how people were laughing, and carrying on like nothing happened, and I just...
> 
> I couldn't figure out how to contribute, how to speak my opinion, or express my pain. 
> 
> My family never knew about my sexuality or identity, they had their ideas, but I had never out right told them. I told my little brother and sister awhile back that I was Bisexual, and I told my mom that I was Demisexual a while ago... but I still wasn't being honest. I was afraid that if I made it public, my father and stepmother would find out and ban me from seeing my little brother or sister until they had graduated and moved out from under their roof. Those two nuggets mean the world to me, so I kept who I am to myself so that I could still be in their lives.
> 
> With the attack on Pulse, I realized I was part of the problem. I was too afraid to stand up and say "Hey, this is me." If everyone could own who they are, our numbers would double, and we wouldn't seem so easy to eradicate. 
> 
> There is strength in numbers.
> 
> But I understand, there's also danger. 
> 
> I digress.
> 
> I am Bisexual. 
> 
> This may not seem like a big deal, but it is when you come from the family I do.
> 
> So, Monday, I found myself listening to the Pulse playlist on Spotify and humored the idea of writing it into this story, and the minute my mind grabbed onto a benefit concert, I felt my heart release it's grip on my sanity. 
> 
> So I wrote.
> 
> It was hard. I found myself in tears on more than one occasion trying to get this out, so if anything feels too cold, it's because I had to pull myself in for my own sanity.
> 
> There were so many songs I wanted to include but, for the sake of writing quality I limited it to a minimum. I do encourage anyone who feels music could help them to go to Spotify and search Pulse, there is a beautiful playlist already there which helped me immensely.
> 
> For those of you who read this, I hope it helped, that it took you somewhere safe for a moment like it did me. If it didn't I am so sorry. That's why I made it skipable.
> 
> Anyway, I'm going to tie this off now. It may be awhile before my next update. I am in need of the fluffiest Sterek fics out there, so I plan to immerse myself in all the coffeshop AU's etc. Please feel free to recommend different fics :) but I will come back to this fic in a week or so. Hope that's okay...
> 
> As always, luh ya cuties.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	16. The best of us can find happiness in misery.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles opens up, but something stops him.

Derek and Stiles finally have a night to themselves, and Derek is overcome with pleasure at that small fact. 

It’s not that Derek doesn’t enjoy hanging out with all of their friends, life on the road, playing a show every night, never sleeping, or never eating… he’s not  _ ungrateful _ , honest. He’s just tired of the constant chatter and hustle that has only grown to a new height since the Benefit concert. 

He’s been itching for a few hours alone with Stiles, and away from the constant hum of activity.

In the week since the Benefit concert for Orlando, they have been shuffled between dozens of interviews on top of their already busy schedule of shows and travel. If they aren’t on stage, setting up the stage, interviewing, or being shuffled along by security, then they are trying to shove food down their throat, hydrating, or sleeping. There hasn’t even been a few minutes of time for a short round of violence on the Xbox, or to play around with song ideas, or talk, or go out and sightsee, or even bathe. 

They’ve also been given a larger security detail since the show. They received numerous threats before and after the show from extremists who didn’t agree that the incident was a tragedy, and was actually a service to mankind. Among this detail is Jordan Parrish who they met at the show.

Everyone has been feeling the strain of their job. Derek has finally realized that this  _ is  _ a  _ job _ . You look at celebrities, rock stars, actors, politicians, etc - and you never think their life is hard, not really. You imagine that they do what they want, and never  _ have _ to do anything. Well, Derek has officially accepted that this is  _ definitely  _ not the case.

They’ve all been strung thin, and have been doing their best to remain calm and not take their frustrations out on each other. When meals started getting missed Allison noticed the tension and pointed out that in a few days they had a gap in shows and she had already reserved rooms in a hotel.

It was that fact alone that kept everyone at bay.

They finally made it to the hotel, and Derek saw everyone’s shoulders release as they entered the lobby.

Everyone is staying in until they have to leave for the show tomorrow.

Erica and Boyd are staying in their room, as are Allison and Scott. Jackson, Lydia, and Isaac had the option of sharing a room so they wouldn’t be alone, but they opted for separate rooms so they could have some time alone. Derek would have done the same thing if he and Stiles weren’t together.

Derek and Stiles are sitting cross legged in bed with takeout in their laps as they scarf the food down in a frenzy. Derek is used to being busy by now and never finding time to eat, but the hunger hadn’t made him feel sick until the last few days. He’s eating like he will never have another meal, because at the rate they are going - he won’t.

Derek watches how Stiles shoves more fries into his mouth before he’s even swallowed or properly chewed the last handful he crammed in. Derek feels he could stare at Stiles’ mouth for the rest of his life.

He feels guilty when he thinks about that. He doesn’t just want Stiles for the physical, although that is a very  _ nice  _ bonus. 

He thinks about Stiles’ ex, as he frequently does now since the award show. He wants more with Stiles, but he knows that they have to talk about their pasts, and Derek is trying to be as patient as possible.

Stiles must see the shift in Derek’s mood because he narrows his eyes at him. “What are you thinking about?”

Derek chews the bite in his mouth, trying to figure out how to address the need for more information without seeming pushy.  _ Pushy _ is the most accurate word though, he wants to shove Stiles down and demand he come clean, but he knows that’s selfish, because the only reason it matters is because they can’t sleep together until they do. But he can’t push it because It’s not his past. It’s not his business. Stiles has to decide that it’s his business.

“Derek?” Stiles asks, food forgotten. “What’s the matter?” Stiles’ eyes dart around Derek’s face, looking for some sign of what put the frown there.

Derek shakes his head, trying to portray that it’s not a big deal. “I was just thinking about what you told me when Adore was visiting. About your ex….” Derek looks up from under his lashes trying to gauge how bad Stiles is going to react to such a sore subject.

Stiles picks up a napkin and carefully wipes his face of grease, and twists it between his fingers to rid the grease there as well while he catches up to Derek’s train of thought.

“I know you aren’t ready to talk about it-” Derek tries to reconcile.

“No.” Stiles says almost too quiet to hear, but Derek stops the sound coming from his own mouth to listen to Stiles. “I  _ want  _ you to know.”

Derek swallows, there’s no way that Stiles is about to open up to the sudden prodding. Although, they haven’t had more than an hour to talk in the past week combined, so that might have something to do with it now that they have a room to themselves for 24 hours.

“I just don’t know how to start.” Stiles doesn’t meet his eyes, dragging a hand through his oily hair.

Derek decides to lead in gently. “Your songs… are they all about him?”

Stiles picks up another fry, and Derek knows he’s buying time to form an answer because he’s never seen Stiles eat just  _ one  _ fry at a time. 

“Yes and no.” Stiles answers. “Our first album was more of a group effort with lyrics than most of our recent albums. There were a lot of topics there, and we all worked together pretty evenly. Our second album had a few songs about family, and friends, and there was this one-” Stiles cuts himself off. “No, I’m not going to avoid the question. I’m going to give you a  _ straight answer _ .” Stiles scolds himself, cutting the air in front of him with a flat hand, but still not looking at Derek.

Derek wants to reach forward and lift his chin, reassure him that everything is okay, and he can tell him anything. He resists, afraid that Stiles is pointedly not looking at him for a reason.

“The answer is almost 90% ‘yes’.” Stiles states, poking at the lettuce that had fallen in his styrofoam container from his burger with the end of a fry. “The first two albums were from before I met him. But after I met him, yes. Most of my songs that I wrote, excluding those written by the others, were about him.  _ My _ lyrics,” Stiles says, tilting his head, eyes still downcast. “Are either about him, or are for the fans, and people who need something. This generation is falling apart, and everyone is just so lost… and I want to be there for them-” Stiles pinches his nose. “ _ Goddamnit _ . No. Back to the point.”

Derek resists a smirk at how hard Stiles is trying not to deflect, or avoid the question. If there’s one thing Derek has learned about Stiles it’s that his first reaction to a problem is to avoid it like the plague until it eventually goes away.

“Yes. They are all about him.” Stiles finally looks up, the corners of his eyes sagging.

Derek decides to keep edging around the real question to try and get the bigger picture. 

“Was there never anyone else? Or he was just  _ that  _ important that the others didn’t matter?” Derek asks.

Stiles blinks at him. “I don’t understand your question…”

“How many... “ Derek drops the words before they come out. They sound stupid ringing in his skull.

“Oh.” Stiles actually seems to relax a fraction. “I’ve only had three serious relationships.”

“Were they all…” Derek wants to punch himself in the face. Stiles is  _ finally  _ willing to answer some of his questions and he can’t even voice them.

“Guys? Serious? Bad?” Stiles asks trying to determine what Derek wants to know, and again Derek finds immense disappointment in himself.

“All three?” Derek tries with a shrug. 

Stiles shrugs back. “They weren’t all guys, my first relationship was in highschool, freshman year before I accepted that I preferred men to women. Her name was Heather, we basically grew up together. So even though our relationship only lasted for the shorter part of a year, it was still important because we were so close for so long.”

Derek nods, having never thought of Stiles ever having a healthy relationship that didn’t end in tragedy, because he’s so hung up on the bad one that’s stunting their relationship.

“Then, there was Minho, don’t laugh!” Stiles points, with a playful smile. “We met online through a game we both played and were friends for two years before I graduated and decided to make a trip up to meet him officially. It got serious, fast, and I ended up staying with him for most of the summer. That’s actually when I met Scott and Isaac, and it was only a year later that we formed the band and got signed.” Stiles smiles, eyes drifting in memory.

“Was he good to you?” Derek asks.

Stiles nods, not even a hint of sadness on his face. “Yea, it was nice, but he was a homebody and we couldn’t figure out a way for us to make it work once my career took off, and instead of ruining our friendship we broke up. We still talk occasionally.” Stiles picks up a few fries. “I think we were always more friends than anything, and since we were so close it only made sense to get together. Am I making sense? I can keep rambling if you want, eventually it will make sense. I’m sure of it.” Stiles smiles, raising a brow at Derek.

Derek nods, “Yea, I get it. You weren’t in love or anything so the breakup was mutual and amicable.”

“Exactly.” Stiles beams, plucking another fry from the tray in front of him.

“And the third?” Derek asks after a long pause. He knows the third is the subject of Stiles entire discography, and the main thing Stiles has been avoiding. 

“The third…” Stiles takes a deep breath, eyes focusing back on the tray in his lap like before. “Was  _ him. _ ” Stiles takes a steadying breath.

Derek’s fingers itch to reach out.

“He was... _ everything  _ to me.” Stiles rubs his eyes, knee bouncing. “Fuck, Derek. I don’t even know how to start.”

Derek schools his expressions, trying to ignore how Stiles  _ ‘everything’ _ makes him jealous, and how he’s afraid that if the guy ever came back, that Stiles would jump right back into his arms. Derek decides he wants to know more about him. “What was he like?”

The corner of Stiles mouth quirks up and he quickly rubs it away. “He was beautiful. Kind. Sometimes grumpy.” Stiles chuckles to himself. “Everyone liked him. He was easy to get along with once you realized that he really wasn’t as abrasive as he liked his eyebrows to portray. As long as everyone else was happy, so was he.”

Derek’s stomach turns. This guy sounds sort of like himself, and Derek tries to ignore the fact that Stiles might have a type and the only reason he’s taken to him so much is because he reminds him of his lost love. Derek decides he doesn’t want to know more about what he was like after all, that it’s better if he doesn’t have the whole picture, just in case he’s right. He tries to figure out how to phrase his next question as gently as possible.

Stiles eyes are still staring blankly at his tray as he thinks.

“Why have you written so many songs about him?” It’s the best Derek can think of, a soft way to ask what happened. Why they aren’t together any more, and what happened to him.

Stiles shrugs a shoulder. “There’s no rehab for broken hearts, right?” He tries for a smile. “I don’t know… it’s just the healthiest way I could deal after the accident.”

Derek swallows, “Can I ask about the accident?”

Stiles nods, chewing on his upper lip, tongue peeking out. “It was a car accident.”

Derek’s heart stops.

“Is he?” Derek asks, again afraid to voice the words.

Stiles shakes his head, “Dead?” 

Derek nods.

“No! Thank, God. No. He’s alive.”

Derek sighs some relief. He’d been chewing that over for awhile. He could never decide if he was alive or not, all the songs conflicting. If he wasn’t dead, then why weren’t they together anymore? Why does Stiles make it seem like he can never see or even speak to him ever again? Derek starts to ask, but Stiles continues with a fierce look on his face, determined to keep going.

“The accident was bad, and he had to be careflighted to a hospital. He fell into a coma and… he woke up.” Stiles swallows, squeezing his eyes shut. “He was okay, well as okay as one can be after nearly every bone and major organ in one’s body is shattered to shit-” 

“Why aren’t you together anymore?” Derek asks, bluntly, and determined.

Stiles head pops up and he blinks rapidly, eyes glossing over, his knee bouncing furiously with emotion. “I gotta pee.” Stiles says quickly, and jumps off the bed, fries spilling everywhere, and darts to the bathroom, shutting the door quickly.

Derek throws his burger wrapper at the closed door in frustration. 

Why can’t Stiles just tell him? Derek puts his head in his hands and pulls at his hair. 

He takes a deep breath, he knows he’s being selfish. He can’t force Stiles to talk about it, and clearly it still pains Stiles to this day. He’s coming around, and opening up more and more each day. Derek has already learned so much in just half an hour… he should be happy for what he has, and stop demanding more.

Derek stands up to retrieve the wrapper he threw in a fit of rage, and cleans up the bed where Stiles dumped his fries. 

Stiles is just coming out of the bathroom when the hotel phone rings. 

Derek tosses the food and answers. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Maryanne from the front desk. Is this Derek?”

“It is.” Derek blinks, shrugging at Stiles who won't stop mouthing ‘ _ who is it?’ _ at him.

“Your mother has left a message with our front desk asking you to meet her for Dinner tonight. She said her phone isn’t working properly and she couldn’t get ahold of you, but she’s going to be down the street tonight and was hoping you would join her for dinner.”

Derek blinks, confused as to why his mother would arrange a dinner via hotel reception desk. 

Maryanne gives him the time and place, and Derek writes it down. “Thank you.”

The call ends and Derek turns to Stiles. 

“So?” Stiles asks.

“It was the front desk. My mom wants to meet for dinner in a few minutes.” 

“Oh.” Stiles says, head shifting back, before his throat constricts. “You shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Derek smirks trying to lighten the dense mood. “You’re probably right.” 

Stiles shoves his hands in his pockets, eyes darting around. “Sucks that you already ate though.”

Derek steps forward. “Relax.” 

Stiles only seems to tense further. 

Derek reaches out to grip his shoulders, and massage the taut muscles there. “It’s okay. We’re  _ okay _ .”

Stiles nods, sniffing quickly. “I really…” His eyes drift down to Derek’s nose as he thinks.

Derek leans his head against Stiles’ forehead. “I’m glad you told me all of that. I’m glad you’re trusting me with this.” 

“I do-” Stiles starts to argue, and Derek cuts him off in a kiss.

“I know. You don’t have to worry. I understand, and you can take all the time you need to tell me.” Derek reassures as Stiles’ eyes close with an exhale. “If I seem impatient, it’s because I really want to take what we have seriously, but we have to be one hundred percent open with each other.”

Stiles grins slightly. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Derek kisses him again, trying to ease whatever plagues him. “No need to be. Now, I’m going to meet my mom, I’ll be back later?” Derek looks at him wanting to make sure he will be okay.

“Yea, sure. Tell her I said hi.” A forced smile spreads across his cheeks, but Derek doesn’t point it out.

* * *

 

When Derek makes it to the restaurant she’s not there yet, so Derek sits and orders a water while he waits. He considers texting her, but the receptionist at the hotel told him that her phone was on the fritz… so he does his best to wait patiently. 

Before Derek can get too far into worrying that Stiles is using him as a replacement, the chair in front of him is pulled out. When he looks up, it’s not his mom who sits down.

“Derek, sweetheart, how have you been?”

Derek rolls his eyes at Kate, “That seat’s taken.”

She smiles wickedly, settling in. “By who? Your mother? She’s not coming.”

Derek blinks.

“How else was I to get you alone?” She smirks.

Derek stands to leave. 

She sighs. “Look, I just want to talk.”

“I don’t.” Derek says slipping his jacket back on. 

“Derek…”

“We’re not getting back together, Kate. How many times do I have to tell you?” Derek asks exasperated. Every time he runs into her, she’s cornering him, shoving her tongue down his throat, or pouting about how they were so  _ perfect _ .

He sees the anger flicker across her face, but she schools her features into a soft expression. “I know. I just want to talk.”

Derek huffs, looking at the ceiling for support in this trying time. “You have five minutes.” He sits down, checking his phone, and not bothering to take his jacket back off.

“How are you?” She asks again.

“Good.” He responds is a very  _ not good _ kind of way.

“Derek, look. I know you still hate me because of the accident, and it’s taken me awhile to realize that you have every right to.” 

Derek chokes on his water.

“Even if you  _ did  _ cheat on me, you’ve clearly been punished for it, but I still caused the accident. I crashed the car.” For once, she actually looks sincere. “I still  _ care  _ about you, and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” Derek says simply, doing his best to not show any true interest or emotion in this conversation. 

She levels him with a look. “So, you and Stiles...”

Derek shakes his head. “No. I’m not talking about my personal relationships with you.”

She laughs, “Derek, we were friends once.”

Derek scrubs at his face. It’s true. Kate is probably one of the only people, aside from his family, that he is still in some form of contact with since high school.

“Look.” Kate starts again. “I just want to make sure he’s treating you well, because you deserve it.”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Derek asks, avoiding answering.

“Well…” She draws. “I’ve just known him a long time.”

Derek’s stomach drops. She might know about the ex… she’s been his manager for most of his career. “Do you know about his ex?” He asks.

“Which one?” She asks flippantly, taking a sip of her water as the waitress places it in front of her.

Derek tries to tell himself that this is Kate just trying to screw with him, still trying to get him back. 

She rolls her eyes, “I’m just saying, he’s been on tour after tour for over five years, and the road gets lonely. The only person I’ve seen stick around is Danny, but they have never put a label on  _ that  _ relationship.” She frowns, “Poor guy. He’s head over heels for Stiles, but Stiles… well…” 

Derek can’t help but sit and listen, even though her five minutes is up. 

“But I’m guessing you aren’t asking about him.” She says looking through a menu.

Derek shakes his head.

“You want to know about the accident.”

Derek nods.

“Stiles... caused it.” She says carefully.

Derek feels bile rise in his stomach. He desperately wants to believe she’s lying, but with everything Stiles has told him, and how desperate he is to keep his secrets… Stiles even outright told Derek that as soon as he knew the truth he would see him  _ differently  _ because of the things  _ he had done. _

“I’ve been hoping you two would drift apart like with everyone else he’s been with, but you two seem to be getting serious and I don’t want you hurt again.” She says sincerely.

Derek coughs. “He won’t hurt me.”

“I really hope you’re right.” She tilts her head.

They sit quietly, and Derek is torn between rushing back to the hotel to throw Stiles against a wall and demand he explain everything, and rushing back to toss him on the bed and curl up under the covers where bad things don’t happen to good people.

“I can tell you and him need to talk about some things, so I won’t keep you much longer.”

“He doesn’t  _ need  _ to tell me anything.” Derek responds grumpily, fingering the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, suddenly feining. 

She chuckles, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “Alright.”

They stand to walk out and she follows behind after dropping a bill on the table for their waters, which surprises Derek. Kate has never had a generous bone in her body, but Derek hasn’t spent much time with her in the past three years, and he can’t even remember the last two of their relationship. Maybe she’s changed?

When they step back onto the sidewalk she motions for him to follow her to her car. “Can’t have a rockstar like you wandering the streets. Come on, I can drop you off at the hotel.”

As much as Derek wants to believe that this is all some scheme of hers, he can’t help but remind himself that they were together for over five years. Before whatever happened in those two years before the accident, there was  _ something _ genuine between them.

They ride in silence, and she keeps her distance. When they pull up to the front entrance, she chuckles quietly.

“What’s funny?” Derek asks.

“Nothing.” She smiles, as Derek levels her with a glare. “I just realized how ironic this all is.”

Derek raises his eyebrows in a way that he hopes says that she better spit it out,  _ quickly _ .

“I mean, you have hated me for the better part of three years because I caused the accident, and ruined your life, but here you are sleeping with a guy who has a very similar story, uncanny actually, only…” She pauses. “In his version, Stiles is  _ me.” _

Derek tries to think of something to say, something to brush it off. Something to make her think he doesn’t believe her, but he  _ does. _ All evidence points toward exactly what Kate is saying. 

_ Everything. _

Derek turns and climbs out of the car without another word and walks upstairs to buy himself a few more minutes to gather his thoughts before he sees Stiles.

He can hear the music blasting in his and Stiles room from a few doors down as he makes his way there. 

He carefully opens the door, curiosity replacing the turmoil in his brain.

Stiles is jumping around the sitting area, in his underwear, and delivering swift blows to an imaginary foe to the soundtrack of  _ Rocky  _ playing on the bedside radio.

Derek stifles a laugh, but the music's too loud for Stiles to hear him, so he remains quiet and leans against the door to watch.

Stiles still has his socks on and he continues to bounce on his toes, widening his stance with his fists held to his face. 

Derek watches how Stiles’ shoulders bunch and coil with each  _ one two _ of his fists. He stops to shake out his arms, looking up and breathing deeply, stomach expanding with oxygen. Then he drops back down with another  _ one two _ of his fists. 

Derek wonders what on earth Stiles is doing. This is the first time he’s seen Stiles do something even remotely aggressive. Sure, Stiles could just be enjoying himself, hyped by the soundtrack, but the intensity in his motions fills the room with tension.

Stiles huffs out rough gusts of air with each punch, motions never slowing, skin building up a sweat. 

Derek licks his lips, but remains silent until he can make sense of everything.

* * *

 

Stiles has been giving himself a pep talk to rival all pep talks since Derek left to meet his mom for dinner. He only let himself mope for a few minutes over the fact that if he came clean, and everything went well, that he, Derek, and Talia could all have dinner together some time.

Stiles wants to tell Derek, he really does. 

He’s trying not to think about how Derek may react baddly, and just focus on all the good it would bring. 

They would be able to talk about  _ everything _ because there wouldn’t be anything that Stiles would have to hide. Derek wouldn’t have to tiptoe around topics. Their friends could finally talk freely too. 

Stiles is doing his best not to include  _ sex _ in the pros of telling Derek. 

The cons are terrifying though. 

Derek has every right to hate him. If Derek doesn’t outright tell him that they will never get back together, there will at least be yelling.  _ At Least _ . Stiles is just planning for worst case scenario.

He’s given up on Derek ever getting his memory back, so the only option is telling him the truth. 

Best case scenario? Derek hears him out, and understands  _ why  _ Stiles waited to tell him. How he wanted him to fall in love with him again, how he secretly hoped he would miraculously get his memories back at some point, how he didn’t want to make things awkward on tour, how he was  _ fucking terrified  _ of losing Derek all over again. 

As long as Derek remains calm and understands at least the reasoning - he doesn’t have to condone it - but  _ understand _ it. Then Stiles can grovel, and promise that he will never again keep a word to himself about anything. And then after a few kisses and maybe a blowjob, Derek will agree to forgive him and try to further their relationship?

Again, this is Best Case Scenario, so Stiles isn’t holding his breath.

The longer he waits for Derek to get back, the more he starts to back out of telling Derek about their past  _ tonight _ .

He had flipped on the radio to fill the silence, and drown out the worry in his brain. It wasn’t long before a song from Rocky started and Stiles quickly jumped up, stripping off his pants and shirt to box his inner demons in the confines of their hotel room.

Stiles didn’t expect it to feel so good, to be so freeing. He felt like he could take on anything.

Not to mention, jumping around in your underwear is  _ always _ a good time.

The first minute or two of the song is encouraging, and Stiles is ready for Derek to get back so they can finish their talk. Then it drags on, and Stiles starts sweating, and Derek still isn’t back, and he’s  _ really, really, _ losing his nerve.

The song ends and Stiles finally lets his calves relax and settle. He stretches, checking the bedside clock, and walks to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge. 

Stiles decides to shower to fill more time before Derek gets back.

When he turns around he about has a fucking heart attack.

Stiles screams, grabs his chest, and falls on his ass in a too swift retreat that resulted in him tripping over his pants that he had left where he kicked them off.

Derek starts laughing from where he’s propped against the door like the fucking creep he is, but he steps forward with a hand out to help Stiles up.

“I hate you so much right now.” Stiles grumbles as he tries to steady his heart. “You are literally the worst thing that has ever happened to me.” Which is obviously not true, but at the moment Stiles’ heart is valiantly trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

Derek remains silent, and watches Stiles’ face as they stand there a moment. 

Stiles is used to Derek not talking, but where’s the witty comeback? Is he not going to defend himself? Stiles buys a moment to figure out what’s going on in Derek’s head by asking a simple questions. “How long were you standing there?”

Derek clears his throat and steps away to rid himself of his jacket and hang it on the coat rack. “Shortly after that song started.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Stiles asks, stepping slowly behind him. “Did you like what you saw?” Stiles tries to flirt.

Derek huffs through his nose, so Stiles relaxes a little, and closes the space between them and wraps himself around Derek’s shoulders from behind. 

Stiles buries his nose in Derek’s neck, reminding himself that Derek is still there and hasn’t gone anywhere. Stiles isn’t proud to admit that every time Derek’s not around, he may panic just a little bit at the thought of him not coming back. Stiles takes a deep breath of Derek’s cologne, and he’s cocooned in a safe little bubble that he has no intention of leaving until the show tomorrow night. 

Derek reaches up and wraps his fingers around Stiles’ wrists that are secured across his chest.

Stiles sniffs more than normal, something familiar clinging to Derek’s neck. He just can’t identify the smell, and it’s making him nervous. “How’s your mom? You got back faster than I thought you would.” Stiles asks, still holding on and trying to identify the smell. 

“I didn’t see her.” Derek answers which makes Stiles jerk his head up. “It was Kate.” Derek clarifies.

Stiles steps back, realizing what he’s been smelling on Derek. The leather seats in her SUV. The air fresheners that overwhelm the senses. Why didn’t Derek tell him he was going to meet her? “Why didn’t you tell me?” Stiles asks.

Derek turns around after Stiles steps back and releases his hold on him. “What? I just did…” Derek says, eyebrows becoming one.

Stiles clears his throat, “You could have just told me you were going to meet Kate. Why make up a story about your mom?” Stiles turns to go find his clothes, suddenly too bare.

“No.” Derek shakes his head walking behind him. “The front desk told me it was my mom. I didn’t know until I got there that it wasn’t.” 

Stiles stops and turns to look at Derek, see if there’s a lie there. 

“She’s been trying to get me to give her another chance and she just wanted to talk, so she tricked me.” Derek explains, still standoffish, but genuine. “I didn’t lie to you, Stiles.”

Stiles’ stomach twists. Kate has been eerily quiet the past few months, and the last time Stiles talked to her was before the award show when she threatened him within an inch of his life if he didn’t end things with Derek. 

Stiles has been ignoring her because her threats from before no longer apply. It’s not against either of their contracts to be together, and they are both  _ out _ . It won't ruin either of their reputations, or Derek’s families’. 

As for her threat to turn Derek against him, Stiles had managed to not worry about that. Keeping faith in their relationship, and how Kate had treated him in the past, that Derek would never give Kate a chance to wiggle her way into his brain.

Now, with Derek standing a few feet away, face closed off, and brows knit, Stiles isn’t so sure anymore.

Stiles clears his throat, pulling his shirt over his head. “What did she want to talk about?” 

When Derek sits on the end of the bed to take his shoes off, Stiles walks over to the fridge to make them a drink, needing something to distract himself because this is the exact opposite of where he thought the night was headed.

Derek clears his throat. “She wanted to see how I was doing… how  _ we  _ are doing…”

“Oh, yea?” Stiles tries to ask as innocently as possible.

“Stiles, will you please come sit down.” Derek asks, and when Stiles turns his head to look at Derek he’s looking up at him with vulnerable green flecked eyes, and Stiles wants to kiss the confusion away.

Stiles walks forward with their drinks and stops in front of Derek, still hesitant because he has no idea what Kate has told him and how much Derek believes, or if she said anything at all. 

Derek takes the drinks and sits them on the end table then leans forward until his forehead is pressed to Stiles’ sternum. His hands come up to gently hold Stiles’ hips. 

Stiles lets out a breath, he hasn’t been turned against him, maybe he’s just stressed. Derek always came back stressed and in need of comfort after being with Kate, maybe that’s all this is. Stiles lifts his hands and cards his fingers through Derek’s dirty hair. They both need showers, honestly.

Derek relaxes more. 

Stiles’ fingers find Derek’s scar and he’s overcome with the need to kiss Derek and protect him. “Do you want to talk about it?” Stiles asks as casually as possible.

Derek shakes his head. 

Stiles doesn’t push the topic, because he has no right to make Derek talk about anything after everything he’s personally kept from him. “Okay, well, we both need to bathe. I can’t even remember the last time I showered.”

Derek groans. “I don’t even think I can stand.”

Stiles smiles down at the mess of hair at his chest, and rubs his hands down the back of his head and over his shoulders. “Well I can’t very well let us stink up the bed.” 

Derek grumbles below him about housekeeping.

“I’ll run you a bubble bath.” Stiles mumbles, remembering how much Derek liked them.

“A bubble bath?” Derek asks incredulously. 

Stiles taps his head with a finger before backing away to find the bubble bath in his bag that he stole from Lydia. “Don’t argue with me. You love them, you just don’t know it yet.”

Derek grunts a non believing sound, and Stiles walks to the bathroom as Derek pulls off his shirt.

Stiles fills the tub and stirs in a massive amount of soap, remembering their first bubble bath together. Unfortunately, this was going to be a solo mission, and Stiles couldn't join. Even if Derek invited him in again, Stiles would have to tell him no.

Derek walks into the bathroom and Stiles is stunned at the familiar memory. Derek is standing in his underwear, watching Stiles swirl the bubbles into a mountain with a long arm. 

Stiles stands up and wipes the bubbles off on his pants. “Trust me, you’re going to love this. I’ll shower after you’re done.”

Derek nods, and as Stiles goes to pass him on his way out of the bathroom Derek catches him by the wrist and twists his head.

Stiles swallows and meets Derek’s eyes next to his shoulder.

Derek looks at Stiles’ mouth and tilts his head.

Stiles closes the distance, planting a gentle kiss to Derek’s tired lips. “Take as long as you want.”

Derek nods, and releases Stiles who quickly exits the bathroom so Derek can strip and get in before he invites Stiles in.

Stiles closes the door behind him before he lets himself have a silent freak out. He flings his arms around, and kicks, and pulls his hair. What the fuck did Kate say to him? What is Derek thinking? 

Stiles sags when he realizes that no matter what Kate said tonight, he won’t be having any sort of heart to heart with Derek. He can’t. Not when Derek is conflicted over whatever she said, he can’t add to that stress. 

Moment has passed.

Not to mention Stiles is basically dead on his feet.

He tries to busy himself around the room until Derek gets out, but half an hour has passed and Derek’s still in there. He decides to check on him. He grabs the drink he had mixed earlier for Derek and knocks on the door.

A faint grunt of acknowledgement drifts through the door and Stiles laughs, pushing the door open.

Derek’s head is resting against the back of the tub, eyes heavy, light sweat coating his face, and he has his entire body submerged from the neck down, bubbles protecting him from the cruel world.

“Nice, right?” Stiles smiles bringing the drink to sit on the edge of the tub.

Derek rolls his eyes, but only one arm comes out to take the drink. 

Stiles steps back toward the door, “I just wanted to make sure you were still alive in here, and didn’t drown.”

“I don’t really want to get out.” Derek says thickly, and Stiles smiles over his shoulder. 

“That’s fine, take as long as you want.”

“No.” Derek cuts in again. “You’re tired, I don’t want to keep you waiting, but I don’t want to get out. So if you want you can go ahead and shower.”

Stiles looks over to the  _ glass  _ shower at the foot of the tub, then narrows his eyes at Derek for not being as sneaky as he likes to think.

Derek laughs and grabs a hand towel, “Fine, there.” He drapes the towel over his eyes. The smile on his lips hold no heat or disappointment, just humor. 

Stiles takes an extra moment to admire Derek in his relaxed state before pulling his shirt over his head and starting the shower.

* * *

 

Derek listens to the steady stream of water hitting Stiles in the shower at his feet. He knows he could lift the towel and see Stiles in all his glory, but he said he wouldn’t so he’s not. 

He’s thankful now, that he washed his hair before Stiles came in because trying to wash his hair, and keep the towel on his face would have been extremely difficult. 

The water is starting to chill to an uncomfortable level, and Derek sags in disappointment. He never wants to get out, how did he not know how  _ great  _ bubble baths were?

His thoughts have finally come to a rest and aren’t making him dizzy with questions, and he feels he has the hot bath to thank for that. 

This only adds to the conflict in his mind. Kate said that Stiles caused the accident, and implied that he only cares about himself, but Stiles has only ever shown him kindness. He seems to always put others first, especially Derek. Stiles is the one who shoved him in the bubble bath to relax, when he could have demanded to know what happened at the restaurant with Kate.

Derek can’t bring himself to believe that Stiles is a bad person, or would ever hurt him. 

People can change.

Derek sighs, the water too cold to bare, and shifts to climb out. “Water’s cold. I’m getting out, is it okay if I take the rag off my face?” Derek asks sitting up in the tub, holding the rag to his eyes, not wanting Stiles to think he’s trying to pull anything over on him.

“I dunno….Can you be a good boy, and keep your eyes off my ass?” Stiles giggles.

This draws a laugh from Derek, and it rings throughout the bathroom. The once there tension finally dissolved.

“Nah,” Stiles settles. “Go for it. I don’t mind.” 

Derek is careful to keep his eyes averted as he climbs out of the tub, drains it, and wraps himself in a towel before heading to their room. 

Derek barely pulls on a pair or loose boxers before falling face first in the mattress and passing out.

That night he dreams of a very  _ hot _ bubble bath with Stiles cradled between his thighs, and working Stiles into oblivion with a tight fist.

* * *

 

When Stiles finally steps out of the shower and into their room, Derek is already sleeping face first in nothing but a pair of loose boxers. Stiles slips on his own boxers and climbs in next to him, turning the TV on at low volume.

He’s trying not to think about what Kate might have said. If it were anything bad, he would know, right?

He flips through the channels until he gets to National Geographic and settles there. He never was one for Documentaries, he much prefered to just google for hours into all the weirdest corners of the internet. Derek loves documentaries though, and Stiles learned to love them long ago.

Stiles slides down in the bed, closer to Derek, and threads his fingers through the still wet hair on the back of Derek’s head. 

Derek scoots closer, sniffling into his pillow. 

Stiles snorts at the action, and doesn’t stop the soothing scratch he’s giving Derek.

He focuses on the TV glowing across the room and is drawn into the screen, he’s seen this segment before. He reaches over and turns up the volume to hear better.

“In that moment, the moon and the sun shared the sky.”

Stiles heart skips a beat. How did he ever forget about this?

“For all of eternity, the moon and sun have chased each other around the world. Long into the future, they will continue this chase, merging the days into months into years into centuries, until the day the sun cannot take the separation any longer and she shatters, engulfing the moon and everything else in a burst of light.”

Stiles eyes start burning. Derek had predicted their future before they ever knew what was coming.

“Most will call it the day of final judgment. The end. To the sun and the moon, it will only be the beginning.”

Stiles closes his eyes, never so happy to watch a documentary about the sun and moon. Memories rushing back. Seeing how the words spoken then are even more relevant now.

“For the smallest of instants each day, they pause in this chase. They pause and look back at one another, smiling as if sharing a secret. Two lovers that can never exist as one, except in that single, brief instant. Lying there, Persephone smiled too. And as quickly as a smile parts two lips, the two sky wanderers parted ways. The chase was on again. Night gave way to day.”

Stiles grabs his phone after checking the TV Guide for the name of the segment, and orders himself a hard copy.

“That is true love, she had always thought. No force but love can impel one to step willingly into the shadows so that the other may shine.” 

Stiles remembers this documentary because it inspired Derek to write his very first song. How did he ever forget that?! All this time he’s been listening to Derek play every night and he never remembered the short, sloppy, cheesy song that Derek wrote him. A song confessing his love. A song in which Stiles was the Sun, and he was the Moon.

* * *

 

_ Stiles shuts the hotel room door behind him, dreading a conversation with Derek, but it has to be done. They have been sneaking around for about a year now, and there isn’t any new developments with Fallout’s contract.  _

_ Stiles isn’t going to be able to come out any time soon, and Allison is nowhere near becoming their new manager.  _

_ Stiles can’t keep making Derek sneak around. They need to come clean and just hope for the best. What they are doing is selfish, and unfair to everyone involved. _

_ Stiles turns around, bracing himself to tell Derek that they need to talk when he sees petals scattered across the floor, and candles lit around the perimeter around the room.  _

_ Stiles’ eyes settle on Derek who is sitting in the center of the petals, hair perfectly coiffed, and jeans pressed.  _

_ Derek’s lips thin into a line, nose ticking down, but his eyes remain determined. _

_ “Derek…?” Stiles asks as he takes a few steps further into the room, and tilts his head in a silent question. Why does their hotel room look like a scene out of a cheesy Rom-Com, and why is Derek holding a guitar? _

“[When the moon fell in love with the sun…](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPPJQNy7bdI)”  _ Derek starts hesitantly, arm strumming along the body of the guitar.  _ “All was golden in the sky. All was golden when the day met the night.”

_ “Shut up!” Stiles gawks. “Stop playing with me…” _

_ Derek continues, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  _ “When the sun found the moon, she was drinking tea in a garden under the green umbrella trees in the middle of summer.”

_ Stiles is afraid to move, afraid that if he blinks one too many times he will wake up and this will all just be a dream. _

“When the moon found the sun, he looked like he was barely hanging on. But her eyes saved his life! In the middle of summer.”

_ Stiles didn’t even care that Derek’s voice was shaky, or the chords didn’t always agree, Derek wrote him a freaking song! _

_ Derek’s smile brightens, surely reflecting back exactly what Stiles is giving him.  _ “In the middle of summer! All was golden in the sky! All was golden when the day met the night!”

_ It is taking all of Stiles’ self control not to run forward, yank the guitar from his boyfriend’s lap, and ride him into oblivion. _

“So he said, ‘Would it be alright if we just sat and talked for a little while? If in exchange for your time, I give you this smile?’”  _ Derek flashes a toothy grin with the tilt of his head. _

_ Stiles knees start to go weak, and he scolds himself for such a cliche, before sitting down on the floor where he stood. He wants to remember every detail of this. _

_ Derek has relaxed by now, not so much as embarrassed, as he is happy that he gets to share this with Stiles.  _ “So he said, ‘That's OK, as long as you can make a promise not to break my little heart, or leave me all alone in the summer."

_ Stiles realizes now, that whatever his intentions may have been when he came through that door a few minutes ago were, there was no way he could follow through with them now. _

“Well he was just hanging around! Then he fell in love, and he didn't know how! But he couldn't get out! Just hanging around! Then he fell in love!”  _ Derek sang, head tilted back slightly, eyes closed as he forced the notes out as best he could. _

_ Stiles prays the song ends soon because he needs to get his hands all over his boyfriend, right now, immediately. _

“In the middle of summer all was golden in the sky. All was golden when the day met the night. Summer!”  _ Derek repeats the chorus again, then his voice dies down and he looks back down at Stiles, a twinkle in his eyes.  _ “Summer, summer, summer, summer.”

_ Stiles crawls forward on his knees, begging the song to be over. He’s settled right in front of Derek when he sings the last line, his breath fanning over Stiles’ nose, painting him cherry red. _

“All was golden when the day met the night.” 

_ Stiles removes the guitar from his lap and kisses his boyfriend like he’s the source of the air he breathes, which isn’t too far from the truth. _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TL;DR  
> It's amazing how you can get a dozen sweet, amazing, life changing comments, and then you get one bad egg, and you lose all the wind in your sails. I'm not going to to say exactly what the comment said, because it honestly doesn't deserve any more of my time, but I was ready to just end the story. It hurt. I've put a ton of time into this, and writing character bio's so that I kept their development, and motivations realistic, etc. I've researched the type of Amnesia that Derek has to the T - I may not bog down the story with details, but I know, okay? The only things I didn't nail down, and research, is the logistics with Label & Band Relations, and contracts. Booooringggg. Anyway. After a few days of stewing and pouting at my boo, she cuddled me into doing what I planned. I did have a few more "scenes" that I wanted to include before the big reveal, but I went ahead and took them out, don't worry though, I'm keeping the best ones. ;) 
> 
> I'm happy to know that my last chapter was well received though, it really helped me deal with the Orlando tragedy, and I felt so much better after writing it and listening to the playlists on Spotify. 
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me with this story, and your constant support, honestly your comments keep me writing.
> 
> Also, the quote from the documentary is from "Kelseyleigh Reber, If I Resist". I do not know of an actual documentary about the sun and the moon meeting in summer, but I'm sure there are plenty out there. I heard this song months ago, and was like "How do I work this in?" And I have been sitting on this since chapter 6, haha. Hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> As always, Luh ya, cuties! 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	17. The truth hurts worse than anything I could bring myself to do to you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drama Drama, Fight Fight, Drama Drama, feels feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot packed into this, so strap in.  
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

Derek wakes up with a familiar body wrapped around him spider monkey style, which is nothing new. It’s actually one of the few constant, and comforting things he has going for him in his life right now.

Stiles’ breath soaks into the skin covering his shoulder blade, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake now that he is aware of the constant sensation. 

Derek shifts to relieve the dull ache in his bladder and notices something not so small pressed against his hip, and just like that, his need to pee is obliterated. The sudden surge of blood rushing south makes him light headed in a startling way. 

He’s been ignoring his blue balls and the sexual frustration for a few weeks now, finally accepting that nothing below the belt would happen until Stiles is comfortable enough to talk to him about the specifics of his last relationship. He hasn’t even jerked it in at least a week because he hasn’t had any time to himself. 

But right now? Derek  _ wants. _ He wants like he’s never wanted before, and his throbbing hard on can testify to that if anyone asked for proof.

Whether it’s desperation, or the lack of blood to his brain, Derek slides his hip horizontally along Stiles’ throbbing line of heat. 

He’s never been with a man, and the thought alone should scare him, but he’s had eight months to think about this - with Stiles specifically - and he has absolutely no reservations in the matter. 

He’s wanted Stiles since that first night in his trailer, and the need has only amplified in the months since.

Derek squeezes his eyes shut as he thrusts against the mattress in slow motions, remembering the dream he had of Stiles last night in a sudsy bathtub. How in his dream he worked Stiles into a panting mess with his hands alone as he massaged and kneaded all the muscles along Stiles’ shoulders, back, and arms. How his hands, ever so slowly, worked their way down to his middle and finally wrapped a strong hand around Stiles girth. 

In his dream, Stiles had hesitated, told him to ignore it and that it was okay. They didn’t have to do anything, but Derek wanted it. He wanted to make Stiles feel good, wanted to show him somehow, how he makes him feel just as good by just being in the same room as him. How he wasn’t scared to sleep with him, and wanted everything Stiles had to offer. 

Derek remembers the encompassing desire to keep Stiles forever.

It only took a brush of Stiles’ fingers across his own sign of lust to have him teetering off the edge of the most earth shattering orgasm of his life.

But it was only a dream.

Derek tries to remind himself that it was just that, a dream, and not to put too much stock into the real thing since he has no earthly idea what it would be like.

Kate never paid his hard on’s any attention. The minute he was hard, she’d climb on top of him and take control of her own release. She always told him that it was selfish for him to want anything else because then he wouldn’t last long enough for her to get off. 

At the time, Derek thought she was right, and that it was selfish of him. After all, in the end he got off just like her. An orgasm, is an orgasm, right? Well, after meeting Erica and Boyd he found out just how wrong he had been. 

Erica has no sense of boundaries, and would tell Derek and Jackson about all the new things Boyd did to her every night, or what she tried with him and how he enjoyed them. They liked to keep things interesting.

Derek eventually found himself no longer uncomfortable by the breakfast chat the mornings after, and found himself asking questions. He asked her if she was ever disappointed that he couldn’t last as long since she had already teased him and worked him up before ever taking care of herself, or if Boyd was ever disappointed because he’d worked her up and then she came before he was even halfway to meeting her. 

She laughed in his face the first time, but answered with a simple ‘No.’ before elaborating on all the ways she drove Boyd toward ecstasy with the tip of a feather.

Derek let it drop, but he found himself asking the same question each time, but in different ways, hoping that if he asked it the right way, she would finally admit that what they were doing was selfish.

One day she must have had enough of his prodding and asked him why he kept asking the same question.

When he explained, her first reaction was an amused chuckle, non believing. When Derek made no move to share in her humor, her face fell.

She asked if he was serious, and Derek nodded looking down at his bowl of cereal. 

She took a moment to wrap her head around it, then explained something to Derek that flipped his whole world upside down.

At that point he had only been with Kate, and sure, he’d watched porn, but everyone said that wasn’t realistic so Derek just assumed they were a fantasy for the selfish people out there. 

She explained how sex was just as much selfish as it was giving. How it was a game of give and take, and getting off with actual  _ penis in vagina  _ (her words) was only a fraction of the ways to get off. She told him that foreplay was an actual thing, and not just a way to get hard before moving onto the main event. 

She told him that some people are vanilla, and prefer to keep it simple, and there isn’t any problem with that as long as that is what  _ both _ parties want. She told him that half, if not more, of her pleasure came from giving Boyd pleasure, and vice versa. 

This changed  _ everything _ .

From that day, all Derek ever thought about in his spare time was what that would be like. To be with someone who would find pleasure in giving him pleasure, and that he could drive over the edge himself. He had a lot to work with now that he’d had more mornings than he could count talking with Erica about her favorite foreplay activities.

The dream excited him in more ways than one because it showed him just that, how he could get off just getting Stiles off. 

Derek is teetering on the edge with the thought of giving Stiles pleasure.

He continues his slow and steady thrusts down against the mattress and along Stiles, his head growing more and more foggy as time passes.

A moan against his shoulder startles him, and his movements halt momentarily. He quickly realizes that Stiles is thrusting back against him in a stuttering rhythm. Derek isn’t sure if Stiles is awake or not, but he doesn’t venture to find out and continues his movements, relishing in the fact that Stiles is finding pleasure in the moment too. 

Stiles sucks what is surely a deep mark into his shoulder, his arm tightening around his waist as his hips find a satisfying pace. 

The broken whimpers wafting around behind his neck fills Derek with the desperate need for release, and the desire to roll over and pin Stiles to the bed and rut against him like a 15 year old boy. He resists, afraid that one sudden movement will make Stiles stop. As lost in the moment as he is, there’s still the stone cold fact sticking in the back of his brain that on some level what he is doing is wrong, because Stiles wants to  _ wait. _ His need is just too strong to listen to reason.

Derek just needs to cum, needs to relieve the ever present sexual tension that has built up over the past eight months. 

“Fuck...Derek.” Stiles moans, almost inaudibly, as Derek feels Stiles tighten his grip around him with strength he didn’t even know Stiles possessed. 

Derek moans an answer, unable to form words.

Stiles hand drags down his side, and over his right ass cheek with a deep pressure, like Stiles is trying to embed his hand within Derek’s skin. 

Derek feels himself widen his legs as one of Stiles’ falls between his, Stiles’ thrusts finding a new angle against Derek’s left cheek. 

Stiles’ hand ventures inward along his right thigh and up toward his ass with strong fingers kneading the way. 

Derek spreads his legs further, needing more, needing whatever Stiles will give him. 

Stiles’ fingers slide further up between his thighs and graze across Derek’s balls that are tight with need, and Derek chokes into his pillow, thrusting hard into the mattress. 

“Shit…” Derek chokes out, unable to hold it in as Stiles fingers press through his boxers and into the cleft of his ass. “Fuck… Stiles… please.”

“Like that?” Stiles asks, mouth still working at his now sweaty shoulder.

“Yes, shit, Stiles.” Derek begs, needing more.

Stiles’ fingers tease him in a place he’s never been touched before and he sees fucking fireworks, feeling himself teeter on the edge of release. 

He’s choking out a string of vowels when suddenly he’s bare.

No fingers, no arm, no breath against his shoulder, no  _ Stiles.  _

Derek doesn’t move, face buried in his pillow, and afraid to look up and see Stiles who’s probably standing across the room with wide eyes and shame clouding around him. The same shame Derek feels, because he was the one who initiated it and made no move to stop, even though he knew how Stiles felt about the matter.

Fuck, he’s really fucked everything up. He’s been trying to gain Stiles’ trust and now, well… that’s all shot to shit.

Derek steadies his breathing before sitting up to locate Stiles in their room. When he scans the room he finds Stiles with a blanket wrapped around him in the small upholstered chair in the corner of the room with the blanket shielding his face.

Stiles flinches when Derek says his name. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Stiles starts to cry, face still hidden behind the blanket.

Derek throws himself out of bed faster than he’s ever moved before. “Hey, Stiles, no!” Derek rushes, falling to his knees in front of Stiles. When he reaches a hand out to find Stiles’ knee, Stiles flinches harder, and Derek pulls his hand back. He tries to take the guilt back from Stiles. “Look at me.”

“How can I look at you, Derek?” Stiles sobs, blankets bunching around his fingers. “I damn near raped you in your fucking sleep!” Stiles sounds like he’s seconds away from emptying his stomach right there on the spot.

“No you didn’t!” Derek shouts, unable to comprehend the situation with all his blood rushing back to his brain. “Stiles, look at me!” 

When Stiles shakes his head under the blanket, Derek pulls the blanket away by force, needing to reassure Stiles that he didn’t do anything. Stiles’ face is blotchy, and soaked with tears, top lip stuck between fierce teeth. 

“Stiles, I was  _ awake _ .” Derek says, as Stiles blinks in disbelief. “I started it. I wanted it. If anything I am the rapist.” Derek swallows the word with disgust, ashamed of himself. He knew what he was doing but didn’t stop.

“Derek… no…” Stiles shakes his head, leaning back. “My hand… my fingers… I was ready to…”

Derek levels him with a look. “So was I…”

Stiles’ mouth falls open in a silent gasp, his adam's apple bobbing with unsaid words. 

“Please, don’t feel guilty. I was the one that took advantage of you in  _ your  _ sleep, because I was desperate for  _ you. _ ” Derek says rubbing circles into Stiles’ shin, now that he isn’t flinching away.

Stiles expression splits between sadness, and relief. “Derek… you know we can’t… not until you know everything.”

“Then fucking tell me!” Derek yells, stress bubbling out before he can stop himself. “You’re making things so much more complicated than it has to be!”

Stiles jumps at the sudden outburst, trying to retreat backwards into the chair.

“I’m sorry. Shit.  _ Fuck _ .” Derek spits, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to get himself under control. He stands back up and walks away giving Stiles some space. “I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled.” He takes a breath looking away from Stiles pale face. “I know how you feel, and understand why you want to wait… I do.” Derek runs a hand through his hair. “I’m just  _ dying  _ over here. I’m stressed all the time, and I want you to  _ trust  _ me, and tell me what happened. And it’s not just the lack of sex, Stiles. I want us to  _ last _ .” Derek tries to keep his voice calm but he can feel his throat close up. 

Stiles takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring. “Derek, I want to tell you, and I have every intention to… but you need to understand that when I do, you're not going to want to jump into bed with me right after. It’s going to be a lot to take in, and things will not be the same between us. I need you to understand that things change, people change, circumstances have  _ changed  _ \- but I expect you to be angry with me and I want you to know that’s  _ okay _ .”

Derek feels irritation and affection battle it out in his abdomen. He wants to coddle Stiles and reassure him that there’s nothing he could tell him to make him turn his back, but the longer he waits the more he worries about what the fuck he’s keeping from him. “Stop.” Derek grunts, walking toward Stiles, anger boiling over again. 

Stiles flinches, but his mouth snaps shut.

Derek decides to just lay it on the table, throw a bucket of cold water on Stiles and watch for his reaction. Maybe get some truth for once. “I know you caused the accident.”

Stiles blinks rapidly, water gathering along the rims. “Who told you?” It comes out on a breath of air, barely audible.

Derek clenches his fists at his sides, his world shattering at the truth, the truth that he hoped was a lie. “It doesn’t matter. The fact is that I know.”

“Was it Kate?” Stiles asks, fire burning behind the swell of tears.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Stiles drops his feet onto the floor blanket falling around him. “So you know.” Stiles breathes. “She told you last night, and you still came back?” A tear finally pops free and shoots down his face. “Why didn’t you say anything last night?”

“Because I wanted  _ you _ to tell me, Stiles.” Derek groans. 

“And I’ve been  _ trying! _ ” Stiles finally shouts. “I’ve been telling you little by little, trying to ease you into it, so it wouldn’t destroy everything we have built!” Stiles stands and walks over to him, “Goddamn it, Derek! I can’t fucking lose you. I won’t survive it again!” 

Derek chokes out a laugh. “I’m not going to fall for that shit again.”

“What?” Stiles balks.

“The  _ ‘I lost someone really important to me, and I can’t lose you too.’ _ Bullshit.” Derek swallows. “I’m not saying it doesn’t hurt, and I’m not saying it isn’t a valid fear. But you have to let me in, and stop treating me like an idiot. I’ve made it pretty fucking clear that I don’t want to go anywhere, but you’re making it really hard to stick around.” 

Stiles blinks for a few minutes, and Derek waits for him to say something, anything. “What did Kate tell you?” Stiles squints.

Derek considers not telling him, hoping that if he didn’t Stiles would in turn end up telling Derek more, thinking he already knew, but that seems to have gotten them exactly nowhere. Instead they are yelling at each other when they should be sitting down and talking this out like adults. They still have a handful of hours alone before they even have to think about getting ready for the show. 

They are both startled out of their staring contest when they hear the chime on the door as a key card slides in to unlock it. Both their heads flip to look as Scott pokes his head through with a serious look. “Is everything okay in here?” 

Derek drops onto the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. This is so fucked. How did he let himself get so angry that Scott heard them in the room next to them and came to check on them.

“We’re fine, Scotty.” Stiles tries. “We’re just not communicating very well. We’ll be okay, go back to Ally, okay?” 

Derek doesn’t look up to see Scott’s face and if he’s reassured in any way, but he hears the door close before Stiles drops down onto the bed next to him.

“You have every right to be angry with me.” Stiles breathes.

Derek huffs through his nose, head still buried in his hands.

“If our roles were reversed, I would have lost it long ago.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Derek grumbles.

“Please, let me talk, I’m trying here.”

Derek nods but keeps his head down.

“Would you mind telling me what she told you, so I can clarify some things?” Stiles asks.

Derek sighs. “She just told me that you caused the accident. And that you have a  _ reputation _ for playing with people’s hearts, like Danny.” Short. Simple. To the point.

Stiles actually growls. “I fucking hate her, you know that, right?” 

Derek nods, a small smile fanning his lips where Stiles can’t see, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Alright.” Stiles starts, the bed bouncing slightly as he settles in. “First of all, I didn’t  _ cause _ the accident in the sense that I was driving the car or something. I was nowhere near the car. I was in a hotel room.”

Derek blinks at the floor. “Then how did you cause it? She made it seem like you did, and you aren’t  _ denying  _ it.”

“We were having an affair and we were caught.” Stiles clears his throat. “I don’t deny that I caused the accident, because if I had kept my dick in my pants, and not have snuck around behind her back, then there never would have been an accident.”

Derek looks up at Stiles finally, “Did you love him before the accident, or just after because you felt guilty?”

Stiles swallows again. “We loved each other very deeply, and we knew what we were doing was wrong, but with the circumstances we were in, we hoped that we could get through the tour before coming clean.”

Derek studies his face, looking for a lie, even of omission. 

“Derek, I want you to believe me when I say that we were in love, okay? I didn’t take advantage, I wasn’t just trying to get my dick sucked, or whatever Kate told you. I was just young and dumb, and didn’t realize the consequences of our actions.”

Derek’s head is spinning, and he feels sick. He wants to end the conversation, to go to Erica and let her pet his head and tell him everything is going to be alright. 

He was sure that whatever Stiles was keeping from him wasn’t as big a deal as he made it out to be, but instead he’s finding out that it’s so much worse than what he expected, what Stiles had warned him about. 

Stiles story, like Kate said, is just like his own, only Stiles plays a different role. He’s the one that (metaphorically speaking) Derek slept with, that caused Kate to lose control of the car, and nearly kill him. 

“Now as far as me being a fuck boy.” Stiles sneers. “I am no such thing. I don’t let people in, as you are well aware, but I don’t toy with people for my own amusement.”

Derek nods, believing him. Finding this conversation easier than the details of the accident.

“I already told you last night, that I haven’t had any relationships since the accident. Sure, I’ve slept with people, quite a few one night stands, but who doesn’t have those? I was in a very ugly place, and it was an escape. But I  _ never _ toyed with people.” Stiles looks at him with such intensity, Derek feels guilty for humoring the idea that Stiles would. 

Derek can look back on his time with Stiles and know for a fact, that Stiles doesn’t take anything lightly. 

“Now, Danny, is a little bit of a grey area. But I did tell you, that first night in the trailer, that he and I had a beneficial relationship.”

Derek nods, vaguely remembering that detail from that night. The night his life changed.

“We went to highschool together, and we were always friends, well mostly… but he always liked me a little more than I liked him, if you know what I mean. I was careful, and never led him on, and kept things platonic. But after the accident, Danny was there for me, he took it upon himself to try and put me back together. I’ll admit, that for awhile I believed I could learn to love him back the same way he loved me, but he always knew I couldn’t. We’ve talked a lot about this, and he knows how I feel, and how sorry I am that I can’t love him back as strongly as he deserves. I-”

“Okay.” Derek cuts in, not wanting to hear about it anymore. “I get it. You don’t mess around.”

Stiles nods, but doesn’t elaborate anymore.

Derek stands up to find clothes, needing air.

“Where are you going?” Stiles asks when Derek picks up his wallet.

“I need some air.” Derek says without emotion, too many battling it out inside of him to pick just one.

All Stiles says is “Okay.” before Derek walks out of the room and up to the roof.

* * *

 

Stiles doesn’t know how long he sits on the edge of the bed trying to wrap his brain around what just happened. That was their first real fight, even back when they were sneaking around, they never fought. The closest they got was a tense exchange over how badly they wished they didn’t have to hide their relationship, or what was better Screwdrivers or Beer… but nothing like…  _ this _ .

Stiles catches sight of himself in the mirror across the room. His face is still blotchy, but his eyes are void of emotion, his jaw slack. 

The world is still moving around him, but he’s stuck, still, unmoving. He can’t even locate an emotion within himself, he’s just… numb.

He figures that’s the best he could expect with all that happened in the hour since he woke up.

He was barely awake when his hand found its way between Derek’s cheeks, a familiar action from years past. A gentle tease that Stiles would drag on for a length of time until Derek was begging, and sweaty with need. 

Stiles was a giver, and what Derek craved on most occasions were his fingers. Sure, Stiles would rim Derek into oblivion frequently, but what really did it for Derek was Stiles knuckle deep with a few fingers, caressing all of his secret spots, and Stiles did a damn good job when faced with the task. 

Stiles blinks out of his reverie. 

When Derek said that he knew he caused the accident, Stiles thought for sure that Kate had spilled all the beans. That Derek knew  _ everything. _ It wasn’t until Derek referred to the  _ he _ of Stiles past that he realized Derek actually didn’t know  _ anything _ . 

It was a game of words, and how to phrase them where everything made sense to Derek without ambushing him with more troubling thoughts. Derek obviously wasn’t doing so well with the few things he had learned, so Stiles wasn’t about to lay it all out in clear english for him. 

Instead he opted to tell the truth without outright saying  _ ‘Derek, it was you. It was us. You, me, and Kate. This is our story.’ _ Instead he said ‘ _ We and Us’  _ as much as he could. To his own ears - the truth. To Derek’s - Stiles’ and the ex. Although, if Derek had asked if it was him, Stiles would have nodded the final truth. All of Stiles’ secrets were not lies, but lies of  _ omission. _

Derek didn’t ask though.

It was dirty, and Stiles isn’t proud of himself, but with the way Derek was attempting to scalp himself, he couldn’t bring himself to add to his stress. Instead his goal was to soothe the strain.

Stiles spends the hours until Derek decides to come back, pacing their room, and watching National Geographic.

He reflects on the situation he’s built up for himself, and just how fucked everything is. How half of this could have been avoided if he had just listened to  _ everyone _ and fucking told Derek within the first month of the press tour. He could have waited for the  _ newness _ to wear off, and the drama with the label and Kate, but then he should have told Derek.

Maybe Derek would have still given them a chance without falling in love with him first, and even if he didn’t and they didn’t work because Derek couldn’t take the stress - then he wouldn’t have more stress added on. 

All Stiles has done is add layers upon layers of stress on Derek, before even serving the main course.

Stiles decides to tell Derek the second he comes back to the room.

* * *

 

Derek paces the roof for hours, listening to some random station on Spotify and skipping any  _ Fallout  _ song that plays, unable to hear Stiles wax poetic about his past love. 

Derek isn’t handling things well, just like Stiles told him he would. 

He wants to be mad at Stiles for lying to him, but he keeps circling back around to the fact that Stiles never  _ lied _ to him. He’s just kept certain truths away from the light.

Derek has been working his way through a pack of cigarettes for the better part of three hours, while he tries to arrange the thoughts in his head. He feels like he’s trying to untangle ten years of christmas lights that have been thrown haphazardly in a box in the back of the garage.

Every time he thinks he has a handle on one thought, it collides with another and forms another rat's nest.

He’s arranged his thoughts as best he can, and the list is as follows:

  * Stiles has never lied to him out right, only in omission. Even his secrets have been on the table as a _do not talk about this_ subject, again, not lying.
  * Kate didn’t lie to him, but she did manipulate him into thinking the worst of Stiles.
  * Stiles didn’t deny outright what Kate had told him, he’d simply accepted that she had told him the truth, and was ready to clarify things, which he did.
  * Everything Stiles told him was genuine, and there wasn’t anything hiding there. At least he hopes not because he can’t handle much more of this.
  * Stiles was part of the reason that someone else out there went through the same thing he did. But it sounds like it was equal fault with both of them. They were both aware of the danger of their situation.
  * He still trusts that Stiles will never _hurt_ him. Stiles is a compassionate person down to his core.
  * He still wants to be with Stiles.
  * He just doesn’t want to hear anymore.
  * But he’s afraid of what he might not know.
  * But maybe it’s better not to know, past is the past, and all that jazz.



Derek’s head fucking hurts. 

He kicks the gravel around on the roof, angry that Stiles has let this go on so long, but  _ almost  _ understanding why. Stiles knew about Derek’s accident, and saw the uncanny resemblance and knew it would cause him at least a little discomfort.

Derek turns up the volume on his phone, plugging his ears tighter with the earphones and drowning out the busy city below.

A song plays that he hadn’t heard in a very long time and he finds himself sending the link to his friends and asking them if they can learn to play it in the next few hours before they head to the show. He googles and finds a few pages of sheet music to take some of the guess work out and sends them through as well.

It’s only a few minutes before Boyd responds with an affirmative, Jackson with a grumble about lame song choices and ‘ _ this is why you don’t make the choices in the group’ _ , and Erica with a ‘ _ What the fuck did he do? I’m going to kill him.’ _

Derek called her off before she cornered Stiles in their room, if he was even still there. He told her not to worry, and that he’d talk to her the minute there was something to worry about.

He listened to the song a few more times, learning the words and chords, before he realized how late it was getting. 

He ran down the stairs, grumpy that he was going to have to see Stiles alone for a few minutes just so he could grab his things from the room and load onto the bus. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to Stiles, he’s just stressed, and wants Stiles to hear the song before they talk more.

He walks into the room slowly, scanning to see where Stiles might be, hoping that luck is on his side and Stiles has already loaded onto their bus in the lot. 

Stiles is sitting at the end of the bed, almost exactly where he was when Derek left, only now he has clothes on, and is showered. Their bags are already packed and on either side of him.

“I wasn’t sure you were coming back… so I packed your bag for you.” Stiles says quietly, fingers loosely twisting in his lap.

Derek steps into the room, with the intention of just grabbing his bag and leaving. Needing more time to sort through the chaos in his mind.

Stiles stands, lifting both of their bags, and walks over to Derek at the door. “The bus is already waiting, we should head down.”

Derek looks at Stiles as he passes by without handing his bag over. Just walking away defeated.

The image of Stiles’ amber eyes filled with guilt, and still rimmed pink, makes Derek’s heart seize. He grabs Stiles by the wrist causing him to drop the bags, and then pins Stiles to the wall with a searing kiss.

Stiles whimpers into his mouth, hands ghosting along his neck, afraid to hold on. 

Derek presses their bodies flush together trying to reassure Stiles physically, that what they have isn’t ruined, just complicated. He realizes that when he left, he was stressed about the situation and new information, but somewhere on that roof, the stress mutated. He was afraid that he had lost Stiles, that they wouldn’t work, that they couldn’t be together anymore.

But the second Derek could smell Stiles as he passed by he realized that he had finally relaxed since he left the room. They may have issues, but they can work through them. 

Derek has no intention of letting Stiles go.

Stiles’ hands finally make contact, but they remain gentle and caress Derek’s neck in a tender fashion. Kiss just as soft.

When Derek breaks the kiss, Stiles leaves his head pressed against his forehead. 

“I want to tell you everything. I don’t want to keep anything from you anymore.” Stiles says with a shaky voice.

Derek sighs through his nose. This is why he didn’t want to see Stiles before the show alone, didn’t want to have to talk anymore, he needs more time to get his thoughts in order. “It’s okay. I know all I need to know, and I honestly  _ can’t  _ right now.” 

Stiles swallows thickly, “Derek, I’m so sorry but you need to know his name.”

“Don’t.” Derek cuts with more force than he intended. “I don’t want to know.”

“Derek, please.” Stiles begs.

“No, Stiles.” Derek bites. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around what you’ve already told me. Don’t make me try and make sense of anything else.” Derek rubs his nose forcefully across the bridge of Stiles’, trying to portray that he still wants to continue their relationship, and that he cares, but he just  _ can’t _ right now.

“Okay.” Stiles barely whispers through a hiccup. “But don’t tell me I didn’t finally try, okay?”

Derek doesn’t even try to make sense of that. He doesn’t have the mental ability right now. “Come on. The bus is still waiting.”

They pick up their things and make their way down in silence, before climbing on and settling onto the front sofa for the short drive to the venue.

Derek avoids Stiles as much as he can by involving himself in the set up with the crew, and soundcheck for his band. When they are done, and Fallout gathers for their soundcheck, Derek locks himself in his dressing room and attempts to sweat his stress away with some P90X.

* * *

 

When the time comes for them to open the show, Derek barely halts at the side of the stage to give Stiles a peck on the cheek like they do before every show, before running out and throwing all of his energy into the arena of screaming people.

They play a handful of their own songs, the most popular ones like always, and Derek throws himself all over the stage, having learned a little something from Stiles. 

He knows he’s not as loose as Stiles, but he makes a point to utilize every limb, and each square inch of the stage. 

They’ve just finished  _ Ms. Jackson _ and Derek stops to wipe his face with a towel. 

Boyd raises a brow at him asking if he wants to go ahead and do his chosen cover, or if he’s changed his mind. Boyd allows him time to think while he taps out a rhythm on his cymbals.

Derek finally nods with his eyes before looking to his left and seeing Stiles standing where he always stands during their set. 

Stiles squints at him, and Derek realizes his face must not be as neutral as he thought it was. 

Derek lifts the microphone to his lips before turning to the audience, still looking at Stiles as he speaks. “I know new artists aren’t supposed to do covers, because anyone can sing a song, and you’re still trying to determine if the new artist has any talent.”

Stiles’ eyes dart around, before settling on Derek, confused with the turn of events.

Derek turns toward the audience, his eyes dragging over Stiles. “However, I’d like to do one today… because of  _ reasons _ .” Derek looks back at Stiles as he caps his bottle of water and sets it down.

Stiles swallows, apple bouncing quickly. 

The audience seem to hold no qualms with the development and continue to scream in earnest.

Derek has never been so happy to have made such  _ talented  _ friends as Jackson starts up with a violin under his chin.

He starts by popping his microphone onto the stand at the front of the stage.  _ “[I come over](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnugraD0wOQ), quarter past two, love in my eyes, blinded by you. Just to get a taste of heaven...I'm on my knees.” _

Derek doesn’t look back to see if Stiles knows the song. 

He slides his hands down from where they hang from the mic, and taps at his chest as he leans forward, lips rubbing across the mic as he sings low.  _ “I can't help it. I'm addicted. But I can't stand the pain inflicted. In the morning, you're not holding on to me.” _

Derek picks a spot above the audience, and focusses as he tries to speak the words as clearly as possible.  _ “Tell me what's the point of doing' this every night? What you're givin' me is nothin' but a heartless lullaby, gonna kill my dreams, oh.”  _

Derek tilts his head to the side, barely looking in Stiles’s direction.

_ “This is the last time...baby make up your mind…”  _

Derek finally meets Stiles’ eyes from under his lashes, and Stiles has a hand over his mouth like he’s trying not to show emotion until he has his under control. Studying Derek with hard eyes.

_ “'Cause I can't keep sleepin' in your bed, if you keep messin' with my head!”  _ Derek calls, head thrown back, as he pops the mic from the stand and starts to pace once across the stage. _ “Before I slip under your sheets, can you give me something' please?” _

Derek reaches out. _ “I can't keep touching' you like this, if it's just temporary bliss!”  _

He looks back at Stiles, who by the looks of it, has caught up to the context of the song.

_ “Just temporary bliss…”  _ Derek sings while his eyes are still locked on Stiles.

Out of everything that has been plaguing him, the one thing that he can’t settle is whether or not he’s just a replacement for Stiles. He needs to know that Stiles wants him and only him. That if this ex came back, he wouldn’t leave him.

_ “We were on fire. Now we're frozen. There's no desire. Nothing spoken. You're just playin'”  _ Derek slows down again, with a wide gait in his hips as he walks to the other side of the stage.  _ “I keep waiting' for your heart, I keep waitin' for ya'!” _ Derek cries in a rush bending forward with a hand in his hair.

_ “I am fiendin' for the sunshine, to show our love in a good light.”  _ Derek points loosely at the ceiling with his eyes closed. _ “Give me reason. I am pleading' to the stars!” _

Derek turns back toward Stiles, walking diagonally across the stage as he sings the bridge and chorus again, watching as each word settles on Stiles.  _ “Tell me what's the point of doing' this every night? What you're givin' me is nothin' but a heartless lullaby, gonna kill my dreams, oh! This is the last time! Baby make up your mind!” _

For what feels like the first time, Stiles just nods in acceptance, he doesn’t defend himself, he doesn’t argue with dramatic gestures.

_ “'Cause I can't keep sleepin' in your bed, if you keep messin' with my head! Before I slip under your sheets, can you give me something' please?”  _ Derek throws himself on his knees only ten feet in front of Stiles, not caring about the audience anymore and suddenly understanding why Stiles puts so much into his song. This is the most cathartic thing he has ever experienced.

_ “I can't keep touching' you like this! If it's just temporary bliss! Just temporary bliss!” _

Derek stands quickly and walks to the edge of the stage, not even sure if half the audience can see him as he stares Stiles down, their noses a mere inch apart.

_ “I'm your one and only, only when you're lonely! Baby why you callin' me?”  _

Stiles stands his ground, and Derek raises an eyebrow at the stiff determination in Stiles’ eyes. 

_ “Not another one night, Try'na be your whole life! I don't wanna fall asleep!”  _ Derek calls loudly in Stiles’ face. 

Things may be tough, there might be a lot of baggage, but Stiles told him that up front. 

Derek knew from the minute he saw him on stage that first night, and Stiles never tricked him into believing otherwise. 

Derek doesn’t want to be a filler. A replacement. 

He want’s a commitment. A promise.

_ “I'm your one and only, only when you're lonely! Baby why you callin' me?” _

Stiles still doesn’t move.

_ “Not another one night, Try'na be your whole life! Oh ho!”  _

Stiles nods ever so slightly. If Derek wasn’t cataloguing every blink, he would have missed it.

Derek finally grabs Stiles by his shirt, tugging him forward. _ “I can't keep sleepin' in your bed, if you keep messin' with my head…” _

Stiles doesn’t fight him.

_ “Before I slip under your sheets, can you give me something' please?” _ Derek lets go and returns to the screaming audience, and finishes the song out with as much emotion as he can purge.

_ “I can't keeping touchin' you like this, if it's just temporary bliss! Just temporary bliss!”  _ Derek holds the note, his body stretching with the note.  _ “Temporary bliss!” _

Derek taps his chest, voice low.  _ “I can't keep sleepin' in your bed…” _ He taps his temple, twisting his head slightly.  _ “If you keep messin' with my head…” _

He doesn’t look back at Stiles again. 

_ “I can't keep feeling' love like this...It's not worth temporary bliss…”  _

That ends their set time and Derek grabs his things, bowing to the audience and thanking them with his friends, and makes his way off stage to where Stiles hasn’t moved since his last song started.

Derek stops in front of him, waiting for him to say something.

“Is that how you want it?” Stiles asks seriously.

Derek bunches his brows together, not understanding what Stiles is referring to.

“You want  _ this-”  _ Stiles waves a finger between their chests, with high arched brows. “ _ Us _ , public? You pretty much just declared to thousands of people that we are having problems, and so far we’ve kept a lot close to our chests.”

Derek goes to answer, not caring if people know about them. He wants what he wants, the rest is just white noise. 

“I don’t care if everyone knows, as long as that is what you want.” Stiles says through tight lips, looking for hesitation in Derek’s eyes.

Derek rolls his eyes. “Were you not watching, orrr…?” He wanted a simple yes, or no, when he walked off stage. Were they serious, or not. Was this only a fling, or were they in for the long haul. It’s not that hard.

“Okay. Game on. You want to play hard ball, let's play.” Stiles says, but there isn’t any heat behind the words and he punctuates with a rough kiss.

Derek sways into the searing heat of Stiles’ kiss, feeling like this is the  _ ‘yes’ _ he’d been asking for only minutes ago.

Stiles pulls away, and winks before he makes his way onstage to finish striking the stage for their set.

* * *

 

Derek watches  _ Fallout’s  _ show from his regular spot at the side of the stage on a folding chair. For the first time since he woke up he feels like he can breathe. 

He passionately told Stiles what was plaguing him, and Stiles reaction seemed good. Derek is just waiting for the show to be over so he can corner Stiles on the bus and get an official answer, in plain english, that Stiles will say once and for all - ‘ _ Yes, I want you to be my forever.’ _

Call Derek a romantic, needy, or desperate if you want, but Derek knows what he wants.

He wants Stiles, baggage and all.

Stiles hasn’t looked at or interacted with Derek much since the show started. This doesn’t disturb Derek though. Stiles always focusses on his fans, and does his best to put on a better show than the last. 

It’s time for them to take a small intermission and usually, this is when Stiles will come sit with Derek for a few minutes while he gulps down a gallon of water and wipes the sweat from his skin before shoving his tongue in Derek’s mouth.

Okay.

So maybe Derek is the one who usually does the shoving.

Watching Stiles on stage just does things to him, okay?

Derek wishes he could get closer than the edge of the stage. Close enough to see Stiles’ eyes crinkle, or the vein bulge in his throat when he holds a note.

Derek realizes that Stiles is making no motion to take his break at the edge of the stage with Derek, and he finds himself worried that his song was the worst idea he’s ever had.

He could have kept his worry to himself, and ignored the fact that Stiles could leave at a moments notice, and just let himself enjoy what they had while it lasted. Instead, Stiles could respect his need for a promise, and admit that he can’t commit, and distance himself entirely from their relationship.

Stiles probably thought he was demanding a fucking ring.  _ Stupid! _

Derek hates himself.

Derek sees Stiles and a few of their stage crew pushing out a large grand piano onto the stage from the other side. Stiles’ thighs strain with the effort, denim stretching in the most sinful way. Stiles turns to press his back against the piano in an effort to make it move faster. 

Derek tells himself that everything is okay, Stiles is just working, there isn’t a problem. Not everything is ruined.

They settle the large, sleek, black piano just off center stage. Stiles places a tall stool in front of the piano, and sits down on the shorter, longer bench in front of the keys. Stiles settles in, adjusting the mic as it’s set up in front of him. Suddenly something occurs to him and he damn near knocks the stool over when he turns to run toward Derek’s side of the stage. 

Stiles grabs Derek’s hand with a wicked smile, and drags him forcibly out of his chair and onto the stage. 

Derek locks his knees, and digs his feet in, attempting to stop their movement. What the fuck is Stiles doing? They didn’t plan a duet for this show.

Stiles sighs toward the sky as he lets go and walks behind Derek, planting his hands on his shoulder blades and shoving him toward the stool.

Derek looks between the stool, Stiles, and the audience confused. 

Stiles points down at the stool, then to Derek, then back at the stool with pursed lips in a ‘ _ Don’t question me, and do what you’re told’ _ kind of way.

Derek sits obediently, but still spinning with confusion.

Stiles relaxes and fluffs out his shirt tails, with a smug smile before booping Derek’s nose and walking around the piano to sit back down on his bench.

Derek crosses his arms, feeling every eye in the building on him. Even his friends have come up to the edge of the stage to see what’s got the audience in a frenzy.

“That should  _ not _ have been so hard.” Stiles gasps into the microphone that’s angled in front of his face where he sits. “Now,” Stiles starts, letting his eyes fall on Derek. 

Derek feels himself melt under the warm stare, whatever Stiles is trying to do can’t be that bad.

“It’s come to my attention that  _ someone  _ thinks I don’t care about them, and that they are just some fling.” Stiles raises a brow at Derek, and his stomach bottoms out.

The words that Stiles said after Derek’s song suddenly flood back into his ears. ‘ _ You just declared to thousands of people that we are having problems.’  _ and then ‘ _ alright, you wanna play hardball? Let’s play.’ _

Stiles turns toward the audience, as he takes another chug from his second water bottle. “As I’m sure you all are aware, Derek and I don’t share the details of our relationship with the masses, and you only get hints of us here and there. Most artists prefer it that way, to keep their personal lives separate from their career.” Stiles rubs a towel over his face. “But let’s face it, everything I do is  _ personal _ .” Stiles points, with a finger around his bottle, at the audience. “You guys know me better than most, since I put everything into our songs, so why should this be any different.”

Derek reaches a finger up to swipe below his ear, he’s sure they are bleeding after the resulting screams after what Stiles just said.

“Not to mention,” Stiles looks at Derek. “I spent far too many years hiding my relationships because of reasons that weren’t my own, and I’m not going to let that ruin me again.”

Derek swallows, remembering how Stiles had said that the reason he and his ex had snuck around was partly because he wasn’t allowed to be open about his sexuality, and Derek’s heart breaks a little for him.

“Now.” Stiles smiles, before looking out at the audience. “I haven’t played this song…  _ ever…  _ and I’m going to play it to the best of my ability. As most of you know my roots in music comes from playing the piano, so if I am to succeed at playing anything just by ear, this is it.” He laughs, finally putting his bottle down. 

Derek smiles, impressed with just how talented his boyfriend is. 

“Okay, Derek.” Stiles addresses him with a wink. “You sit there, look pretty, and try not to blush too hard as I serenade the  _ shit  _ out of you.”

Derek laughs hard, finally understanding what Stiles has been setting himself up to do. It was so obvious. He does his best not to look nervous, but he’s sure he’s not doing a good job.

Stiles clears his throat, straightening his back before letting his shoulders sag as they settle over the ivory keys, his eyes watching as his fingers dance across and pick out the all too familiar tune.

Derek’s eyes bulge out of his head when he realizes what song Stiles is getting ready to sing. He briefly considers running away. 

Maybe Stiles  _ did _ interpret his earlier song as ‘ _ Please, Stiles, marry me or let me go.’ _

Derek swallows, not sure how he feels about that, and busies his fingers with the hem of his shirt as he hunches over himself.

_ “I[t's undeniable](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5r1pg28XZfE)... that we should be together…”  _ Stiles looks up at Derek from under his lashes, a shy smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.  _ “It's unbelievable how I used to say that I'd fall never.” _

Derek ducks his head, not ready for any of this, but simultaneously never wanting it to end.

_ “The basis is need to know, if you don't know just how I feel.”  _ Stiles’ eyes remain glued to Derek’s.  _ “Then let me show you now that I'm for real…” _

Derek sees movement and looks to his left to see Scott, Isaac, and Lydia walking out with mic stands.

_ “If all things in time, time will reveal…”  _ Stiles arms drift across the keys almost without thought.  _ “Yeah…”  _ Stiles grins a wide toothy smile.

_ “One…” I _ saac, Lydia, and Scott sing softly from where they have set up in an arch around Derek.

_ “You're like a dream come true…”  _ Stiles sings, eyes glittering as Derek wishes he could become one with the floor, unable to handle even a fraction of the emotions coursing through his veins.

_ “Two…” _ They sing again, and reach their right arms out at Derek holding up two fingers.

_ “Just wanna be with you…”  _ Stiles smile only grows wider as Derek grows pinker.

_ “Three…”  _ They sing, swaying with a snap in unison. 

_ “Boy, it's plain to see that you're the only one for me…” _

_ “And four…” _

Stiles eyes shimmer with moisture.  _ “Repeat steps one through three…” _

_ “Five…” _

_ “Make you fall in love with me…If ever I believe my work is done...Then I'll start back at one.”  _

Derek is torn between running away from the onslaught of emotion, and diving across the table and taking Stiles right there on the stage. 

Stiles is serious.

He isn’t going anywhere,

Derek gets to keep him forever.

_ “Yeah.”  _ Stiles lilts, confirming Derek’s unspoken realization.

Jackson suddenly appears out of nowhere with his violin that he played earlier and decides to join in on the song, smiling smugly at Derek. Either Jackson is actually touched by what is happening, or he just wanted to get a better vantage point of the Romantic Drama playing out on stage. Either equally possible.

Stiles grabs his attention back, eyes never leaving Derek since the song started.  _ “So incredible the way things work themselves out…”  _ Stiles eyes shine with moisture again. _ “And all emotional, once you know what it's all about, babe…” _

Derek looks out toward the audience who’s singing with tears streaming down more than half of their faces. He can relate. 

What Stiles is doing, is bringing the romantic out in Derek, and he feels like a cartoon with heart eyes and singing birds swirling around his body.

_ “And undesirable for us to be apart... Never would've made it very far… 'Cause you know you've got the keys to my heart!”  _ Stiles belts tilting his head back, and Derek gets a nice long look at the vein he was just longing for backstage minutes ago.

Careful what you wish for, right?

Derek soaks in each detail of Stiles singing up close and personal. Bookmarking all the twitches, and strains for later reminiscing. 

_ “'Cause…”  _ Stiles smiles again, back down at Derek, knowing  _ exactly _ what he’s doing to him.

The others chime back in, holding out a finger count for Derek as they sway. _ “One…” _

_ “You're like a dream come true.” _

_ “Two…” _

_ “Just wanna be with you.”  _

Derek’s heart seizes again, hearing the words he was longing for. Someone  _ loves  _ him.

_ “Three…” _

_ “Boy, it's plain to see that you're the only one for me, and…” _

_ “Four…” _

_ “Repeat steps one through three!”  _ Stiles shoulder quirks up, his own blush working its way up his neck.

_ “Five…” _

_ “Make you fall in love with me! If ever I believe my work is done, then I'll start back at one!”  _

This song is too long, and so is the show. Derek needs Stiles to stop singing right now, and just take him. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ . This is fucking  _ everything _ . 

_ “Say farewell to the dark of night. I see the coming of the sun…”  _ Stiles sings, more veins than Derek knew existed pulsing along his neck.

Lydia walks over, her place behind her mic stand being replaced by Boyd, and starts playing the piano as she forces Stiles off the stool.

Stiles doesn’t miss a beat and makes his way around the piano to Derek holding his mic close.  _ “I feel like a little child, whose life has just begun.”  _

Derek swallows, not ready for Stiles to be within touching distance, even though that was exactly what he wanted seconds ago.

_ “You came and breathed new life into this lonely heart of mine!”  _ Stiles reaches out a hand to Derek, blush growing as each note slips from his lips.

Derek reaches out, he couldn’t have resisted if he tried.

_ “You threw out the lifeline,”  _ Stiles pulls Derek from the stool and into his chest, the mic still held to his lips.  _ “Just in the nick of time!”  _ Stiles hits an extremely high note, and the audience screams in excitement. 

Derek tingles all the way down to his toes. His body electrified by all that could be his, that  _ is _ his.

_ “One…” _

Stiles wraps his free arm around Derek’s middle. _ “You're like a dream come true.” _

Derek can feel Stiles’ breath on his face, smell the sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat.

_ “Two…” _

_ “Just wanna be with you.”  _ Stiles leans his head against Derek, a private smile only to be shared between the two of them.

Derek lifts his arms that up until now have been paralyzed, and slides them under the opening in Stiles’ over shirt and across his hips.

_ “Three…” _

_ “Boy, it's plain to see that you're the only one for me!”  _ Stiles rubs their noses together.

Derek lets himself be swayed by Stiles as they dance slowly like no one is around.

_ “And four…” _

_ “Repeat steps one through three!”  _ Stiles fans out his three smallest fingers around the mic just under their faces.

_ “Five…” _

_ “Make you fall in love with me!”  _ Stiles takes a deep breath, voice waivering.  _ “If ever I believe my work is done….”  _ His adam's apple bounces fiercely,  _ “Then I'll start back at one.”  _ He finishes quietly.

They sway half a minute longer, just searching each other’s eyes. 

Lydia keeps playing the piano, Jackson serenading the audience with his bow, and Derek is warm in the embrace of Stiles.

Stiles has handed the microphone off to Boyd and has filled the now empty hand with Derek’s as he holds it up to dance more appropriately.

Derek closes his eyes, overwhelmed. No longer embarrassed… just  _ loved. _

“Kiss him!” Scott suddenly shouts. “Kiss him! Kiss him! Kiss him!” He starts chanting.

It only takes two repetitions of Scott for the audience to roar in agreement, chanting the words almost too clearly.

Stiles’ eyes crinkle at the corners, and that’s all it takes for Derek to close the space between their lips and claim the lips that he never intends to stop kissing for the rest of his life. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *squeals into the void* Did that make you swoon? It made me swoon. Pulled at all my heart strings - all of them.
> 
> On a side note, please take some time to watch [Straight Outta Oz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1YEYOTUxcg) if you haven't yet.  
> It's a visual album that Todrick Hall released a couple weeks ago, and I am obsessed. It's theme is based off the Wizard of Oz and about his journey in life.  
> I knew this guy back when he was working minimum wage as a performer at Six Flags, where I had season passes for almost 10 years growing up. Then I watched him when he made it onto American Idol, and then his TV show on MTV, and now this.  
> Guys, I cannot stress how proud of him I am, and how I want to cuddle him and give him everything he dreams of. Since I do not have that kind of power, I am just doing my part in sharing the video. I've already bought the album on iTunes (which he has released on his own, since he's left his management) and the few friends I have shared it with bought it also. It's really good. I'm not just biased because I have watched him through the years, it really is great. He was ranked with the number 2 selling album on iTunes between freaking Beyonce, and Adele - BEYONCE AND ADELE GUYS!  
> Please, please, please! Watch this, and PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU LIKE IT! And if you do, share it with your friends - and just EVERYBODY! I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS!
> 
> AGH!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, I know I did.
> 
> I have a few more requests as far as songs that you all have commented asking for (I haven't forgotten) and a few requests for Drama, and memories (which I also haven't overlooked) These requests will be filled, I promise. 
> 
> As Always, I luh ya cuties.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	18. The calm before the storm set it off.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when you keep secrets from the one you love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this chapter out last Friday, but I've been struggling with this chapter because it makes me mad. *Grumble, grumble*
> 
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.
> 
> Hope you guys like it. :)

“Allison’s email said there are only two more interviews and then we will head toward the hotel tonight and will meet up with  _ Fallout Shelter _ .” Parrish clarifies, after Jackson groans at another random pedestrian as they are carted between another set of interviews.

They met Parrish at the benefit concert, and Lydia took a liking to him, even if she won’t ever admit that is the reason he was hired on full time. Derek smiles to himself as he looks over and watches Parrish adjust his button up shirt under his jacket. 

There’s no reason for their security to dress so nicely, they don’t have a dress code of any kind, but Parrish insists.

After they all pestered him for the most part of an hour about his choice of attire, he finally divulged some personal information. 

The minute he graduated high school, he was immediately shipped off to boot camp. He spent most of his teen years in ROTC and even JROTC in preparation. His dream had always been to serve his country. He wanted to do something good, and make his mother proud. This led him to explain why he insisted on dressing nice, because of the dress code in the military, and how to this day he can’t comfortably wear a t-shirt and shorts while on a job.

Parrish is a good guy, from what Derek can deduce. He keeps a lot to his chest, but who doesn’t? 

Between the Benefit concert, and Derek and Stiles’ performances the other night,  _ Were!’s  _ fame has hit a new high. After Jackson found himself locked in a supply concert and calling for help because even  _ he  _ couldn’t handle the hoard of women chasing him, Allison hired on more security for  _ Were! At the Disco,  _ specifically.

Parrish has just been given a chance to prove his worth as head security for  _ Were! _ , and he’s pulling out every stop to make sure everything runs without a hitch. Derek actually hopes that nothing goes awry, because he appreciates Parrish’s attention to detail, and eagle eye on their surroundings, spotting clusters of fans before they are even within hearing range. 

Derek takes the time between interviews to watch the cracks in the sidewalk pass, and reflect on the last 48 hours of his life. 

After Derek was ushered off the stage at the conclusion of Stiles’ serenade, he was immediately hurdled into a back room in the venue where Allison, Peter, and a few other important looking people gave him judgy eyes, and encouraged him to back off from Stiles.

Allison and Peter were not a part of this judgement of course, and after that initial meeting, they both giggled, winked, and all around gushed over how happy they were for him to have found Stiles. It was slightly out of character for Peter, but Derek was too happy to care. 

Stiles was in for the long haul.

The officials in the room though, had pointed out how early it was in his career to settle down, and that  _ Fallout Shelter _ was extremely successful and that could pose a number of problems for Derek and his band. They pointed out that if they both became equally famous, they would constantly be touring, and not together. It would make it very hard for them to see each other. 

Then they pointed out how Stiles has never had a public, serious relationship, so that could cause a huge media storm, especially if anything were to go bad. Not to mention, Derek would most likely be painted as the villain in the media because he might be seen as trying to sleep his way to the top.

Derek is still pissed over this. He didn’t even  _ want _ the fame to begin with. It all started with him getting his friends in the front door. He almost wishes that he had had some preemptive thought in the matter, maybe he could have snagged Stiles sooner. Derek doesn’t dwell on that too long, past is the past and all that jazz.

Then the gaggle of important looking business men and women elaborated. They explained how even if their relationship went fine, the media would forever paint him as the Federline to Stiles’ Britney.

Derek groans again at the massive pile of shit he’s still trying to sift through. He knows they are right, this is their job, this is what they do. They spot potential problems, and try to assist in preventing any poor imaging in the media.

Then a few agents came in and tried to make a case to Derek, Allison, and Peter as to why  _ Were! _ needed them to assist with their public image.

Derek declined. He doesn’t trust a lot of people, and Peter, as slimy as he may seem, is his uncle and has done a lot for his band. Then Allison has been nothing but kind and is a key component in how far his band had made it since they started touring with  _ Fallout Shelter _ . Until she and his uncle couldn’t manage his band, and fit then into their busy schedule, Derek wasn’t planning on looking for any other form of management.

He’s had a few more meetings since, and was finally able to convince Allison to cancel the last one that was scheduled for later tonight after all the interviews. No matter how many people talked to him, or pitched him contracts, he wasn’t interested. 

Before they left the last interview Allison had met him to give him a rundown of who they were meeting with and what this meeting would entail. 

Derek finally asked her point blank. “Am I missing something? Should I be considering other options?”

She took a minute to think, business, and affection flashing across her brows in quick succession. Then finally she settled. “Professionally, you should always consider every opportunity you are given. That is my  _ professional  _ advice.”

Derek had nodded, hoping she had some more information to help him make future decisions. He does trust her, she hasn’t steared them wrong yet.

She cleared her throat, “As your  _ friend _ . I don’t think you need to worry about any of these decisions just yet.”

Derek sighed in relief.

“I hope you know that Peter and I will continue to do everything we can for your band, and will keep you safe.  _ Fallout,- _ ”

Derek noticed that she used the band’s name instead of a familiar reference, still trying to remain as much in business mode as possible, Derek assumed.

“-will keep you out of debt, and handle all the touring aspects.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I’m not just saying this because of how close you all have grown, or anything like that. I would advise the same to any of my clients, as I am telling you now. You have a good thing, a great thing, a once in a lifetime opportunity. You don’t need to worry about other options, managers, contracts, or anything else until  _ you or your band _ feel you need a change.”

Derek found himself nodding again, unable to form words, just happy that he could stop worrying about if he needed to make some decisions because  _ Fallout’s  _ charity was running out.

“And if that day ever comes, Derek, don’t feel bad.” She gave him a serious look.

Derek looked at his feet, ashamed that he puts other people’s needs before his own, and pretty much everyone in his life is aware of it now, and are trying to put an end to it. 

“This is a business, this is a career, if you decided to leave the tour tomorrow because you were offered a headliner, I, Argent Records, and even  _ Stiles -”  _

She finally hit the nail on the head. The key reason for Derek not taking these offers seriously. He doesn’t want to risk his relationship with Stiles for personal gain.

“-would understand. We all love you, and we are all a family, but we are all just doing a  _ job _ .” She finished. 

Derek smiled, thanked her, then asked if they had to keep having these meetings. He clarified that her words helped him, and he appreciates her more than she knows, but he’s happy where he is, and he’s already talked to his friends about the offers they were receiving and they all agreed they didn’t want to change anything yet. They were all happy on tour with  _ Fallout _ . 

She rolled her eyes at him, pulled out her phone, dialing quickly, and proceeded to cancel on the parties they were scheduled to meet after all the interviews they had scheduled.

Derek blinks out of his reverie, still looking out the window of the car. He faintly registers Jackson bickering with Parrish, and Derek ignores it. It’s nothing serious, at this point Jackson is just jealous of all the attention Lydia has been giving Parrish.

Derek’s phone buzzes in his back pocket so he twists and wiggles until he can slip it from his too tight jeans pocket. It could be Allison emailing him to tell him she wasn’t able to cancel the meeting and that he still had to go.

**Stiles:** Will you please talk to me tonight?

Derek drags a rough palm across his beard and scratches his neck to soothe himself. 

Stiles has been trying to get Derek to listen to him, to let him tell him who the guy was. The  _ infamous ex that Stiles has single handedly wrote sonnets for. _

Derek doesn’t want to know. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. He’s got far more pressing things on his plate, and they  _ just _ went public so to speak, and shouldn’t they be in their honeymoon phase? 

Derek groans again, earning a few turned heads in the back of the car with him. He shakes his head at them and texts Stiles back. 

**Derek:** No.

Derek knows he’s being a dick, but he just really  _ can’t.  _ Not to mention he should be allowed some credit. He’s taken, and understood, all the secrets and quirks that comes with dating Stiles, and now all he wants is to not  _ know the name. _ It shouldn’t matter,  _ what’s in a name? _

Derek laughs to himself at the over enthusiastic voice in his skull reciting Shakespeare.  _ What’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. _

Or in this case, Derek chuckles harder.

_ Shit by any other name would smell as foul. _

Derek ignores the stares around him as he has a minor giggle fit at his Shakespearean Thespian waxing poetic to shit on a balcony of some hotel.

Derek needs sleep, he’s aware.

**Stiles:** Goddammit, Derek.

Derek doesn’t justify that with a response. It’s a damn name. Just forget about it.

**Stiles:** You need to know.

**Derek:** No I don’t. It’s the past. Just let it go. 

**Stiles:** You don’t understand. You need to know.

**Derek:** No.

A few minutes pass, and Derek thinks he’s won this round.

**Stiles:** I could just say it. Right now. Tell you the name, and be done with it. 

Derek thinks back to the night before where he and Stiles had been smoking outside, and Stiles, in a fit of frustration, yelled at Derek, demanding he listen and just let him tell him. When Derek realized what Stiles was about to do, he ran over to him to forcefully cover his mouth. All Stiles had been able to get out was “It was-” Derek still panics at how close he came.

At this point, Derek is more than aware that the only reason this is a big deal, is because he, himself, is making it that way. He’s stubborn, but he lets so much go daily, that he refuses to budge on this. Only a year ago, he was in control of his life and surroundings, and now he feels he’s lost all control. He does what everyone tells him to, go here, go there, do this, do that, wear this, wear that. He just needs to control something again, and right now, it’s not hearing the stupid name Stiles thinks is so damn important.

**Derek:** Don’t you fucking dare, Stiles. I’m not kidding.

He knows he’s being irrational. He knows it shouldn’t matter. It’s just a name right? But the fact that Stiles has dragged it on this long, and is insisting so hard to tell him a  _ name _ , Derek just  _ can’t _ . It doesn’t feel right, and he doesn’t want to know.

**Stiles:** saldkeiosd

Derek actually finds himself chuckle at the keysmash.

**Derek:**  That’s mature. 

**Stiles:** Your face is mature.

**Stiles:** Well, everyone in the studio is shooting grumpy faces at me, little do they know, I’m immune. I’ve had a lot of practice under your grumpy brows, but I guess I shouldn’t keep them waiting.

**Stiles:** I guess I’ll see you at the hotel… so we can… not… talk…

**Stiles:** Good luck with Christine, she has no sense of personal space!

Derek reads over the last few texts, trying to parse out all the different emotions that must have been coursing through Stiles. A few minutes pass and Derek still hasn’t responded, assuming Stiles has already started his interview.

**Stiles:** I love you, Derek.

**Stiles:** P.S. totally going to kick your ass at the Lip Sync Battle on Friday. 

Derek feels his blush start below his collar, and the only thing that stops it’s course up his neck is the fact they have arrived at the studio for their next interview. Derek clears his throat and pushes open the door, trying not to think about how he and Stiles were scheduled as guest on LL Cool J’s show on  _ Spike, _ and how Stiles was  _ definitely _ going to kick his ass. 

* * *

 

When Derek finally makes it back to the hotel, he locates Stiles in the bar as he passes through toward the back elevators. 

Stiles doesn’t see him and continues talking to Peter, of all people. 

Derek freezes in place. He knows that Stiles knows his uncle, has for awhile, but he didn’t think they were on such friendly terms.

Stiles is standing next to a stool, leaning sideways onto the bar against an elbow, and gesturing animatedly with his other hand between himself and Peter.

Peter has an amused smirk on his lips, a cocked eyebrow, and is settling himself into the stool next to Stiles for what seems to be an extended conversation. 

Derek tries to deduce the type of conversation they are engaged in. Stiles is animated, Peter is amused but slightly guarded, and Stiles’ head keeps lolling back as though he’s rolling his eyes, or maybe sighing? Derek isn’t sure. He knows he should just walk over and see for himself.

A hand comes up to Derek’s elbow and he jostles, not used to being caught off guard since Parrish trained all of his attention to his band. 

Derek turns his head to see Kate has sidled up next to him.

“Before you groan, and roll your eyes, I’m here to meet with Peter since he’s about to head back to California.” She clarifies, letting go of his arm. “Now, where is he…” She asks as she scans the room.

Derek notices the exact moment Kate’s eyes land on Peter and Stiles by the silent gasp that escapes her.

She clicks her tongue. “Better watch your boy, Derek.”

Derek scoffs at her, hoping it conveys just how unimpressed with her, he is. She seems relaxed, and it unsettles him that she didn’t hold onto his arm. It’s not that he is comfortable with her touching him in the first place, but he’s not used to Kate treating him like a normal person.

She shakes her head, laughing quietly to herself, then she stops and turns to look at him with wide eyes. “Oh.” She breathes. “You don’t know…”

“Know what?” Derek asks, before he can stop himself.

She looks back over at the two at the bar, who seem to be engaged in a serious conversation now, leaning close as though mid whisper. She then looks back at Derek, eyes searching his like she can’t decide how to phrase what she has to say.

“Spit it out, Kate, or I walk.” Derek says taking a step back. He’s feeling like a small capybara, and Kate is the jaguar toying with her next meal.

“They… have a past…” She pauses. “He really didn’t tell you? That he…”

Derek raises a brow, trying to look as though he doesn’t care. Not even sure where she’s headed.

“They slept together, Derek. More than once, I’m sure.”

Derek feels like he’s taken a punch to the gut, and all the air leaves him. There’s no way. Stiles would have told him. Derek’s sure of it. It was his  _ uncle, _ for crying out loud. 

“But it’s a long story, and it’s not mine to tell.” She rectifies, looking as uncomfortable with the subject as Derek is. “I’ll just go grab Peter, and get out of here.”

Derek watches her walk over, whisper something in Stiles’ ear, and then take Peter’s proffered arm, and walks away. 

Derek is watching the back of Stiles head, waiting to see if Stiles will order another drink, go up to their room, or finally look around and see that Derek has been standing there the whole time.

Slowly, Stiles lifts his head and cranes his neck to look behind him and looks right at Derek.

Stiles looks destroyed.

His face is flushed, and paling by the second. All the muscles in his face have gone slack, and the only tension remaining, lies between his brows. 

Derek’s first instinct is to head over and wrap his arms around him and protect him from whatever troubles him.

But then Derek realizes that Stiles is looking at him like this because Kate must have told Stiles that she told him about the fact that he and Peter have slept together in the past. 

So it’s true then.

* * *

 

Stiles scours his brain for anything he could say to Derek to make the news sting less. He never thought he was going to have to tell Derek about his incredibly stupid hook up with Peter. He barely remembers it, but of course Derek doesn’t want to know that. 

Stiles was waiting in the lobby for Derek, itching to taunt him more about their upcoming Lip Sync Battle that Stiles is totally going to win, but Stiles luck has never been on the beneficial side of things.

Derek turns and walks back out of the hotel with Parrish hot on his heels. 

Stiles can’t even appreciate how well Parrish has taken to his new job, because everything is crumbling around him and no words will help excavate himself. He turns back around to order another drink, or ten.

Stiles is seven shots of tequila in, determined to finish the bottle and be allowed the worm, even though the bartender insists there isn’t a worm in the bottle. 

Peter shows back up and wraps a large arm around his shoulder. 

Stiles eyes him wickedly from the corner of his eye, mentally threatening Peter to remove his arm lest he want to be rid of it.

The tone already miles different from the one only minutes ago between the two of them. 

Peter had been trying to understand why Stiles has waited so long to tell Derek about their past. Then went on to talk about the future for their bands. It was friendly, and professional. 

Stiles doesn’t have a real problem with Peter, they’ve seen each other throughout the years and since Stiles sobered up, they haven’t had any problems. Now though? Stiles needs space, specifically from the uncle that he hooked up with while mourning the loss of his nephew.

Peter laughs and pulls his arm back, hands held up in surrender at the glare Stiles still has leveled at him out of the corner of his eye. “I just came to talk. Kate mentioned that she  _ accidentally  _ told Derek about our night.” Peter winks like the true slime ball he is, and Stiles drops the heavy shot glass he just emptied on Peter’s pinky that rests against the counter, just an inch too close to Stiles’ elbow. 

Stiles grins happily when Peter yanks his hand pack, sucking the tip of his pinky into his mouth.

“What do you want, Peter?” Stiles asks, throwing another shot back. The memories flooding back all too quickly. “Come to gloat?”

“Heavens, no.” Peter whispers, ordering his own drink. “I wanted to make sure you two would be okay.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint.” Stiles grunts looking at his fingers. “He just walked out of the hotel. He didn’t even talk to me.” Stiles chuckles a humorless laugh. “He’s pissed.”

Peter pats him on the back. “He’ll get over it. You two were made for each other, come rain or hell fire, you two seem to find each other.”

Stiles makes a gagging sound. “Can you leave? You can’t seriously think it’s okay to sit there and act like -  _ like that! _ When you took advantage of me at a low point in my life.”

Peter narrows his eyes, leaning forward into Stiles space, and points at him as he speaks. “I’m almost certain you weren’t the one taken advantage of.”

Stiles swallows, hating that Peter would call him on such a sore subject, but honestly not expecting anything else. 

Stiles  _ had  _ used Peter. 

Peter had shown up to an after party a few months after the accident, wanting to check on Stiles and see how he was doing. He was one of the few of Derek’s relatives that knew Stiles before the accident. 

Instead, he found a doped up rockstar, looking for a release from all that his life had become. 

Then he saw Peter, and could see Derek in him, could smell hints of him on his skin. 

Between the drugs, and the need for Derek, and the need to forget reality, Stiles allowed himself to flirt with Peter, rather boldly. After a few drinks, Peter flirted back. Then one thing led to another...

Peter leans closer, his nose ghosting along Stiles’ jaw. “I don’t recall you not enjoying yourself either.”

A shiver of disgust runs down Stiles’ spine, not even directed at Peter, but himself. How could he do something so despicable? 

When Peter doesn’t make any move to right himself on his stool, Stiles shoves him hard, knocking him to the floor. Stiles knows how to make a bad situation worse faster than anyone else he knows.

It wasn’t Stiles’ intention, but the tequila was having its way with him. 

Peter righted himself, then rushed Stiles and pinned him with his arms on either side of Stiles on the bar, bracketing him in. His face was only an inch away as he spoke low. “Stiles. I understand that you are angry. You didn’t want Derek to know. I understood long ago that what we did was wrong, and I never expect it to happen again. I had resolved to never tell Derek, and I never would have.” Peter’s voice is stern, demanding no argument, but still nonthreatening. 

Stiles swallows, knowing that Peter isn’t a bad guy. He’s just…  _ Peter _ .

Peter tilts his head slightly, caressing Stiles with his eyes in an apologetic way. “Kate is a snake, and I imagine she is going to do everything she can to come between you two, so if you have any other secrets I suggest you start coming clean. And don’t push me away, you need as many people in your court as possible.”

Stiles is about to respond when Peter is yanked backwards and just short of disappears. 

When the bar stops spinning, Stiles’ eyes find Derek ontop of Peter, and landing punch after punch to his uncle’s face.

Stiles stands to try and separate them but falls over onto a table, balance shot to hell with the amount of liquor consumed in such a short amount of time. 

Parrish appears out of, seemingly, nowhere and drags Derek off, limbs still flinging in the direction of his uncle. 

Stiles feels awful.

Peter doesn’t deserve to be hurt over anything that has happened, and Derek doesn’t deserve to have to deal with the fact that his boyfriend slept with his uncle.

Some sound must come from Stiles because Derek extricates himself from Parrish’s grasp, and rushes toward Stiles, cupping his face, and whispering words Stiles can’t comprehend across his face.

“Did he hurt you? Was he pushing himself on you? I’ll fucking kill him. Just say the word.” Derek searches Stiles eyes.

Stiles blinks back his tears. “He didn’t do anything. We were just talking. It’s okay, Derek.” Stiles looks down at Peter, and tries his best to express how sorry he is. How sorry he is for constantly bringing the Hale family so much stress and pain. Sorry that he was weak, and still is. Sorry. Just. Sorry.

Derek ends up dragging him away and up to their room where he makes Stiles a large glass of water and hands him two pills to stave off a hangover. This only serves to make Stiles feel worse.

Stiles expects Derek to leave, to yell, to demand answers, anything. 

This isn’t what happens. 

Derek sets about pulling the covers back, taking Stiles shirt and pants off drunk limbs, tucks him into bed, then turns the TV on low to NatGeo - no surprise there. He then turns off all the lights, places the  _ Do Not Disturb  _ sign on the door, and curls up next to Stiles with a crossword.

Stiles looks over at Derek, afraid to break the silence, but needing to know what Derek is thinking.

“Sleep, Stiles.” Derek says quietly, not sparing a glance his way.

Stiles is all too aware of the distance between them, how it was put there on purpose, and rolls over to silently cry himself to sleep. 

* * *

 

Derek is yelling now. “You fucked my uncle, but for some reason still won’t sleep with me, Stiles!” 

Stiles woke up a few hours later, Derek still working on his crosswords, and the TV still running at a low volume. Stiles had sat up and everything was calm, but Stiles being the fucking brat he is, dressed head to toe in red, and insisted on poking the bull. 

“It’s going to take some fucking time to accept that, Stiles.” Derek huffs from across the room. “I understand it was in the past, and I can’t judge you for that. And it’s none of my business.”

“It was just one time. It meant nothing.” Stiles says quietly, unable to think of anything else to say to calm Derek down.

Derek chuckles darkly, stunned still, “Then I guess I mean less than nothing to you.” Then he turns to leave.

“What?” Stiles chokes, “Derek! Stop!”

Derek doesn’t stop, still making his way to the door of their suite. 

“Derek! I fucking  _ love  _ you, what about that don’t you get?”

Derek turns with a finger, ready to yell at Stiles again.

Stiles jumps from the bed to get up in his space. “Don’t you  _ dare _ .” It breaks Stiles heart to think about how frequently they fight now, and how easy it’s gotten.

It’s Derek’s turn to balk. “What?”

“Don’t you  _ dare  _ say one more thing about me not  _ fucking _ you.” Why is that the one thing Derek is clinging to in this argument? Why is that what bothers him? Stiles expected him to just be angry that Stiles never  _ told _ him. Stiles wasn’t prepared for this, and it scares him to think about what it could mean.

Derek has the sense to look ashamed, thank God. 

“Love, and sex, aren’t the same thing.” Something dark swirls inside of Stiles and he finds himself spitting words in Derek’s face as he starts to shove his boxers off of himself. “If you want to _fuck me so bad, fine.”_ Stiles is fighting tears, face hot with anger, and distress over the situation he has single handedly landed them in. “If that’s all that you want from me, and I’m such a terrible person for wanting it to be perfect, then _fine!_ _FUCK ME, DEREK! GET IT OVER WITH!”_

Derek realizes what Stiles is doing and hastily grabs at his boxers, and pulls them back up. “Stiles, stop! No! That’s not-”

Stiles starts to cry, hating everything that is his life now. 

All the secrets too woven, half truths everywhere, and Derek won’t let him finish the story. With how angry Derek is now over just the news of Stiles sleeping with his uncle so long ago, Stiles knows that if he told Derek about their past it would only make that sting worse. 

It goes on and on, and Stiles can’t calm himself. Now he’s made Derek feel guilty, when all Stiles has done was put him in this situation. He could have avoided this and more if he had just nutted up and come clean.

FUCK!

Derek is wiping the tears from his face, and whispering soft nothings, apologizing for making Stiles feel like all he wanted was sex.

Stiles sucks in a sob and tells Derek again with a leveled stare. “ _ We need to talk.” _

Derek shakes his head and starts walking backwards toward the door.

“Dammit, Derek. I need to tell you. Come back here!” Stiles yells. “IT WAS Y-” 

The door slams, and Stiles isn’t sure if Derek heard the truth or not.

Either way, Derek doesn’t come back to their room that night.

Stiles falls asleep alone.

Stiles wakes up alone.

* * *

 

Derek stays in Boyd and Erica’s room. 

As luck would have it, Erica, Allison, and Lydia are having a girls night and it’s just him and Boyd in the room. Boyd, thankfully, doesn’t push for information, and Derek stretches out across the small fold out bed within the sofa in the room. He plugs his headphones in and tries not to think to hard on the events of the evening. 

Wishing he could go back in time and head straight to his and Stiles’ room and never have seen Peter or Kate in the first place. 

His knuckles are bruised from where they came into contact with his uncle’s skull, and Derek refuses to ice them. He doesn’t deserve the relief. 

He shouldn’t have lashed out at Peter. It wasn’t Peter’s fault. He had no way of knowing that one day Stiles and him would start dating. It was in the past. It shouldn’t matter.

Derek replays his argument with Stiles back in their room. He feels immense shame at how angry he let himself get over the fact that Stiles had slept with his uncle, and not him. Seeing Stiles cry and try to shove his clothes off, demanding Derek just take him and get it over with, sends bile north of his stomach, shame overpowering his senses.

Stiles had wanted their first time to be  _ perfect _ .

Derek squeezes his eyes closed at how heartbreakingly sweet that is. But what did Derek do? He used sex as a weapon. 

Boyd turns off the lights and climbs into bed, and Derek lets his mind wander toward what their first time could have been like.

_ Could. _

Derek is afraid to discover that he may never know. 

He falls asleep fantasizing about taking Stiles apart piece by piece and showing him just how precious he is to him.

* * *

 

_ Derek lets himself into his and Stiles’ suite, longing for a much needed hug from his boyfriend after the stressful day he’s had.  _

_ The lights are off, and he hears a small ‘yip’ further in the room as he closes the door. He flips on the entry light and finds Stiles scrambling on the bed, shuffling blankets around, and looking toward the door in panic. _

_ “Stiles? It’s just me.” Derek whispers, not wanting to scare his boyfriend more than he has to. _

_ Stiles doesn’t appear to relax, but his eyes settle on Derek’s, and Derek makes his way toward the bed. _

_ He removes his belt, shoes, and empties his pockets. “Did I wake you?” _

_ Stiles clears his throat. “Uhh, no. Nope. Uhmm, I didn’t think you were coming back tonight…” _

_ “I wasn’t but…” Derek turns and finds Stiles slightly flushed. “Are you okay?” _

_ “What?” Stiles snaps, swallowing. “Yep. Totally, just… yea. Good.” Stiles breathes, eyes a little hazy. _

_ “Are you drunk?” Derek narrows his eyes, trying to parse out the odd behavior. _

_ Stiles shakes his head, sucking in his lips between his teeth, and his blush deepens. _

_ Derek decides that whatever is going on will come to light soon, but for now, he just wants to climb onto the mattress beside Stiles and curl up for a decade in his embrace.  _

_ Stiles keeps the blanket snug around his hips when Derek climbs in, but doesn’t fight Derek when he leans in for a kiss. Stiles actually moans into it like a man starved. _

_ Derek crawls over, bracing himself above Stiles, devouring him after a long day apart. He breaks the kiss to trail smaller, feather light brushes across his forehead, soaking in the warmth of Stiles pink skin through his lips. “I love you so much.” Derek whispers at Stiles’ temple. _

_ Stiles gasps, and pulls Derek back in for a biting kiss. Sliding his hands down Derek’s sides, making him twitch as Stiles lightly grazes his fingers across his ribs.  _

_ The small action sends sparks down his spine, igniting every nerve ending in his body. _

_ Derek climbs fully on top of Stiles, settling between his already wide thighs. Derek tries to shove the blanket down that’s keeping them apart, and Stiles suddenly breaks the kiss and clings to the blanket, flushing harder. “Stiles?” Derek asks confused. It’s not like Stiles to not jump on board with a quick handjob. _

_ Stiles stares back, horror written over his face. “It’s nothing. Let’s just go to sleep.” He tries to fake a yawn. “Oh man, I’m beat.” He rolls his head to the side like he’s trying to go to sleep. _

_ “Stiles…” Derek warns, dragging a hand over Stiles heat through the blanket, which tells Derek just how ‘not sleepy’ he is. _

_ Stiles fingers remain tight around the top of the blanket keeping it in place.  _

_ “Why won’t you let go of the blanket?” Derek asks, finally seeing the source of the odd situation before him. _

_ Stiles pupils dart to the corner of his eyes, head still turned to the side where he had been pretending to fall asleep. “It’s nothing really. Don’t worry about it.” Stiles tries, and Derek can see he’s winning, Stiles is seconds away from cracking. He’s not good at keeping secrets to begin with. _

_ Derek pulls lightly, but forcefully at the blanket, and after a few moments of tight, white knuckled fingers, Stiles relents, and covers his face. _

_ Derek finds Stiles hard and throbbing, and wet. With a side glance Derek finally sees the bottle of lube on the side table. “Were you… is that why you’re embarrassed? You were jerking off?” Derek fights a chuckle.  _

_ Stiles whimpers. _

_ Derek wraps a soft hand around Stiles, and Stiles arches into it, crying out in much needed ecstasy.  _

_ “I was-” Stiles gasps as Derek shifts his hand to start slowly working Stiles to a peak. “Fuck. I thought you weren’t coming back tonight. I thought-” Stiles bites his lip with a moan as Derek licks a stripe up his sweat covered neck. “Shit, Derek. I want you so bad. All the time.” _

_ Derek moans in response, feeling exactly the same. Derek braces himself with his shoulder against Stiles, knowing he can take the weight. He uses one hand to continue pumping Stiles, and the other to try and rid himself of his jeans and briefs.  _

_ Stiles picks up on what he’s doing and his two hands join the party, officially riding Derek of his pants, and the blanket between them completely, then yanking his shirt over his head. The two of them bare and pressed together from shoulder to ankle. _

_ Derek settles between Stiles thighs, kissing down his chest, leaving marks for Stiles to wear under his clothes on stage. Derek aligns himself with Stiles long heat, spreading the lube from earlier as he finds a rhythm, both of them panting. _

_ Stiles’ hands trace every muscle in Derek’s back, and he arches into it, wanting Stiles all over him.  _

_ Derek’s thrusts stutter when Stiles runs a thumb around and over a peaked nipple, and he finds the head of his cock slipping down between Stiles’ cheeks, which has happened before, but something is different. _

_ Stiles’ eyes go wide, and Derek knows he’s not imagining things. _

_ It’s definitely wet down there, slick with lube. _

_ “Ignore it. Come here.” Stiles grabs at his shoulders and Derek finally understands. _

_ “You weren’t just jerking off, were you?” _

_ Stiles looks like he might deny it, but Derek does his best not to look threatening in any way, wanting Stiles to be comfortable enough to talk to him. Stiles searches his face, and Derek thrusts slowly, the head of his cock dragging across Stiles’ hole. _

_ Derek’s head fogs, and he desperately wants to slide himself inside, but they haven’t done that yet. They haven’t even really talked about it. _

_ “Fuck.” Stiles moans, “Derek, I’m sorry. It’s okay. I thought you weren’t coming back tonight, and I just needed… but it’s okay. What we were doing is great, fantastic, perfect. No pressure, no rush.” Stiles babbles as Derek’s hips find confidence, dragging himself forcefully against Stiles wet hole. _

_ “What if I don’t want to ignore it?” Derek asks, voice husky, as he imagines finally having all of Stiles. _

_ “What?” Stiles gasps, hips meeting Derek’s, craving more. “Fuck, Derek. Whatever you want. I’m yours. Just do something.” Stiles cries, latching onto Derek’s shoulder. “I just need you.” Stiles breathes hot against Derek’s shoulder. “I won’t make you do anything, we are doing all of this at your pace. Just. Do. Something.” _

_ Derek does. _

_ Derek slides his hand down Stiles side, trying to soothe the writhing form beneath him, and trails his fingers between Stiles’ cheeks to start working him open. He’s done his research. Derek feels Stiles’ cock pulse against his stomach as he slides one finger in. _

_ “Are you?” Stiles huffs, head thrown back. “Are we?” Stiles lifts his head. “Are you sure?” _

_ Derek answers with a solid kiss that Stiles returns in fervor, a dam of emotion breaking between them. _

_ Derek spends minutes, trying to stretch Stiles, worried about hurting him. _

_ “Derek, Stop. Just get in me.” Stiles pants, pushing Derek’s hands away. _

_ “I have to-” Derek tries, “I don’t want to hurt you.” _

_ Stiles laughs, “Trust me, Der. You won’t.” _

_ Derek furrows his brows, trying to decide if he should be insulted, he’s not small by any means. At least he didn’t think he was... _

_ “Oh!” Stiles exclaims, “No! I didn’t mean… Derek, it’s not that. You have a nice dick. Big, beautiful, perfect, I could, and have worshiped that dick.” _

_ “Stiles.” _

_ “Right.” Stiles clears his throat. “I just meant, I was already pretty open, when you got here. I had been uhmm.. Stretching myself for awhile.” Stiles raises an eyebrow, “Wait! What do you think I am? A slut with a loose butt hole?” _

_ Derek blushes. “I didn’t know… I just… all the research I’ve done says I have to stretch you or it will hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you…” _

_ “You did research?” Stiles asks quietly, a small smile fanning his cheekbones, eyes twinkling. _

_ “Yes.” Derek answers, ducking his head. _

_ “So you’ve been thinking about this?” Stiles asks, fingers tangling in Derek’s hair. _

_ Derek nods. _

_ Stiles pulls him up and kisses him slow and gentle, opposite of what all their kisses have been so far tonight. “I love you, Derek Hale. I don’t deserve you.” _

_ They continue kissing, and petting each other for what feels like hours, love and affection clouding the room. They both remain hard, and leaking, but are more focussed on showing the other just how much they love each other. _

_ Finally, Stiles breaks their kisses. “I need you inside me, right now, so help me God.” Stiles spreads his legs wide, and grips Derek’s ass, pulling him in tight against his slick hole, before pulling out a condom from seemingly nowhere. _

_ Derek nods, unable to find words, and reaches for the lube next to the bed, while Stiles slides the condom on. Derek slicks himself up quickly as Stiles impatiently undulates under him. _

_ Stiles chest heaves as Derek braces himself above him and lines himself up. _

_ Derek presses in slowly, no resistance slowing him down, but overwhelmed by the new sensation. “Fuck, Stiles.” He pants, face falling into the crook of Stiles’ neck and shoulder. _

_ Stiles’ hands are still digging into his ass, and he pulls sharply, bottoming Derek out within him, and lets out the most beautiful cry Derek has ever heard.  _

_ Derek chases the sound with his mouth, swallowing it down, and pressing in tight against Stiles.  _

_ They stay like that a minute, and Derek is afraid he’ll come within ten seconds after he starts moving.  _

_ “Derek, move.” Stiles demands, squeezing Derek’s ass as if trying to physically pull him out to get him moving. _

_ Derek shifts back slowly before sliding forward again and another beautiful string of vowels trickle from Stiles’ mouth. That’s the final push Derek needs, and he slides out faster, and even faster back in. The pace only picks up from there. _

_ Stiles is meeting every thrust of Derek’s hips and even he’s stunned at how long he’s made it without blowing his load. _

_ Months of waiting, and it’s finally here. _

_ Derek can’t tell if he’s more focussed on the sweet, slick, friction Stiles is allowing him, or Stiles face and the sounds coming out of it. _

_ Stiles is quiet, which only seems to happen when there are orgasms involved. If Derek ever wanted to shut Stiles up, this would be how to get the job done. However, Derek loves the sound of Stiles’ voice. Loves how honest he is with him, how the words tumble out faster than he can think of his next word, because he lets all of his guard down around Derek. In the public eye, Stiles is uncharacteristically quiet, but he’s still seen as the spaz of the band. Stiles has a very specific public image, and it’s actually under complete control. _

_ This? _

_ This is Stiles letting all of his restraint go, enjoying the moment, safe, normal.  _

_ Derek admires the relaxed arch of Stiles’ brow, the dark fan of lashes resting against his cheeks, the flare of his nose, and parted, spit slick lips, huffing vowel after vowel.  _

_ Derek keeps his pace quick, but not too fast, wanting to make this last as long as possible. Cataloguing everything he can see, never wanting to forget this moment.  _

_ He at least expected some words from Stiles, maybe a ‘harder’, ‘faster’, ‘right there’, or even a string of curses, but instead Stiles is just lying there, meeting Derek every thrust with a downward motion of his own.  _

_ Stiles is just happy to take whatever Derek is willing to give him. _

_ Derek tries to think of something to do, something special, something mindblowing and not so vanilla, but he can’t think of anything, afraid that if he moves things will end too quickly. Not sure what Stiles likes as far positions.  _

_ “Derek?” Stiles asks, eyes open, and worried. _

_ Derek realizes he was so wrapped up in thoughts of how basic his prowess had been, that he’d stopped moving altogether, not even peppering kisses and bites across all the skin available before him. _

_ Stiles runs a hand through Derek’s hair, “Everything okay? We can stop… if… you don’t like it?” Stiles voice cracks on the last word. _

_ “No!” Derek says far too loudly, causing Stiles to flinch, but the worry slightly starts to evaporate, his brow still asking a silent question. “I- is this good for you? It’s great for me, believe me.” Derek thrusts once and is rewarded with a short gasp, and a set of eyes rolling back into Stiles’ head. _

_ “Then what pinched that-” Stiles gasps as Derek snaps his hips again, trying to reassure Stiles just how much he’s into this. “-pinched that beautiful face of yours?” _

_ Derek considers not telling him, embarrassed, but it’s Stiles, and he is literally buried in him so anything but honesty would be betrayal. “I realized how… simple this is. I mean I did a lot of research, and you know… all I’m giving you is missionary.” The words feel dumb as they leave his mouth, and he wishes he could suck them right back up. _

_ Stiles sobers slightly, craning his neck up to kiss the tip of Derek’s nose. “You stop that right now. You are giving me  _ everything. Everything.  _ You just.. I’d go vanilla the rest of my life as long as it was with you.” _

_ Derek feels a swarm of butterflies take flight in his abdomen, and he finds himself thrusting again, needing release. _

_ Stiles becomes even more vocal after that, arms tight around him, as though trying to reassure Derek with just how much he’s enjoying himself.  _

_ Derek falls forward, unable to hold himself up anymore, nestled in the crook of Stiles’ collar. His entire body is on fire with emotion and sensation he didn’t even know existed. _

_ Stiles takes the opportunity to push Derek’s shoulder and flip him over onto his back.  _ _  
_ _ “This okay?” Stiles asks. “You seemed a little tired, totally understandable since you’ve been basically holding yourself up in a pushup for half an hour-”  _

_ Derek grabs Stiles, pulling him down swallowing the words as they continue to tumble out with Stiles anxiety of possibly doing something wrong.  _

_ Stiles takes that as enthusiasm at the turn of events and shifts forward, gripping Derek behind him, and lining them back up.  _

_ Derek holds Stiles’ hips and lets his eyes wander across the flush of Stiles’ sweat slick skin as he lowers himself back onto Derek.  _

_ When Stiles settles, he falls forward, bracing himself over Derek, their chests sliding against each other, and kisses Derek, tongue dragging across Derek’s in the same rhythm as his hips. _

_ Stiles starts slow, rolling his hips, getting a lay of the land, and Derek takes everything Stiles has to offer. Suddenly, a jolt runs through Stiles, and he calls out. “Fuck, right there.”  _

_ Derek groans at the feel of Stiles tightening around him, as though trying to wring his orgasm out of him by force.  _

_ “Can I?” Stiles asks, and Derek raises an eyebrow not following. “Can I…” Stiles slams down once, hard.” _

_ Derek nods vigorously, the sparks still flickering away at his toes from the one motion. _

_ Stiles finds Derek’s ear, biting down, and starts slamming his hips down in a relentless rhythm, breath harsh against Derek’s neck.  _

_ Derek grips Stiles’ hips harder, thrusting up into him, meeting every thrust. He never wants this to end, but somehow he’s lasted half an hour, according to Stiles, so he figures he can start chasing his release, much like Stiles is doing. The look on Stiles face when he lifts back up to meet Derek’s eyes sends a series of jolts through his body. “Fuck, Stiles. I’m sorry, I’m gunna-” Derek cries out, barely holding on. _

_ “Yeah?” Stiles asks, with a small smile. “Give it to me, Derek.” Stiles slams harder than Derek thought possible, bending down to tease a nipple, and trail a set of fingers across Derek’s ribs, and just like that, Derek is thrown off the cliff of another earth shattering orgasm.  _

_ He cries out, aware of just how wide his mouth is, and how tight his eyes are, as he pulsed his release within Stiles. _

_ “That’s it. Shit…” Stiles moans in wonder, his hips slowing, dragging forcefully across the spot Derek knows all too well now, that lights Stiles on from within. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” _

_ Derek knows this is seconds from over, so he thrusts up hard twice and Stiles cries out, shooting his own release across their chests, then collapses on top of him. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... there we have some drama, and then (in case it wasn't clear) a Derek Flashback Dream of his and Stiles first time. 
> 
> I've received a lot of requests for happy flashbacks, because this fic is getting a little too angst filled, but alas it is all necessary. 
> 
> I'm posting this now, because I am going to be hella busy all weekend. I'm taking tomorrow off from work so I can sleep in and look cute for the Weezer and Panic concert that I have Pit tickets to. *Screams into the void* I AM SO FREAKING EXCITED! (Also, is it weird that I am slightly disappointed that it won't be Hoech/Tyler singing 10 feet away from me?)
> 
> Then, Saturday I am going to spend the entire day hunting Pokemon with my friends. And then Sunday I am going to a massive Dinosaur exhibit thing downtown (and it goes without saying, yes, I will be hunting Pokemon while there. Crossing my fingers for a Cubone)
> 
> Alright, enough rambling. Hope you guys are still with me, and don't hate me!   
> Luh ya cuties!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	19. You're a canary, I'm a coal mine!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parrish.
> 
> And
> 
> The beginning of the Lip Sync Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

Derek wakes up to Erica bouncing up and down on his stomach, not only sending shock waves through his system from the impact on his very full bladder, but fear for his very enthusiastic morning wood, is it possible for one to break their dick? Derek is terrified to find out. 

“Derek!” Erica groans, throwing her weight into her bouncing in her effort to wake him. “Wake up!”

Derek squeezes his eyes closed, trying to find his way to the surface, still clouded by the vivid dream of what he could only imagine his and Stiles’ first time would be like. He doesn’t want to wake up, because then he has to face Stiles and apologise for being an ass the night before.

“I will literally, shave off one of your eyebrows if you do not wake up, right now.” Erica threatens, wiggling her ass atop his  _ still _ very full bladder, luckily his wood is flagging.

“I’m awake, Jesus.” Derek grunts, shoving her off in one quick motion. He knows better than to call her bluffs. 

Jackson once suffered a nipple waxing because he refused to sleep with a shirt on when sharing a bed with her and Boyd in hotel rooms. Needless to say, Jackson protects his nipples around Erica at all times now.

“Finally.” She breathes, not even commenting on her forceful removal as she steadies herself on her knees and turns back to Derek. “Okay, don’t think that I am just going to ignore the fact that you slept in our room last night, but we have bigger issues right now.”

Derek squints an eye open at her to see her face slightly pale and worried. “What happened?” Derek asks sitting up and trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“It’s about Parrish.” She starts slowly. 

“Okay…” Derek drawls.

Erica takes a deep breath. “After the altercation last night, with you and Peter, the hotel insisted they report the incident because you kind of fucked your uncle up.” She laughs, but it’s short lived.

Derek bites his lip, already dreading, but still planning yet another apology he has to give today.

“So the cops got involved, and Allison gave them your information, and Peter insisted he didn’t want to press charges, so they left you alone since you were holed up in a room and not causing further trouble.”

Derek makes a ‘go on’ motion with his hand. 

She takes a slow, deep breath. “They ran your names through their database… and…”

“Erica!” Derek shouts, not nearly awake enough to follow the direction of the conversation. “Spit it out.”

“They… Parrish…” 

Derek stares, all the worst case scenarios passing through his mind, of all the laws Parrish could have broken, if that even is his name.

“Parrish is Isaac’s brother.”

“Okay….” Derek raises a brow.

Growing irritated with the slow pace of Derek’s synapses this morning, Erica huffs and powers through an explanation with a roll of her eyes. “The brother that Isaac never knew existed until a few months ago when a PI contacted him asking if he would be willing to meet his brother. Isaac hasn’t wanted to meet him, for reasons that I  _ do not _ know, but  _ plan  _ to find out - but everyone is freaking out. It’s chaos out there, Derek.”

Derek stands and makes his way to the bathroom as he tries to wrap his mind around all of this. 

Derek calls out from the bathroom, “So what you’re trying to tell me, is he’s Isaac’s brother, who Isaac didn’t want to meet…”

Boyd comes around the corner as Erica lets out a far too dramatic groan at Derek’s incompetence. “What she’s saying is, Parrish sought Isaac out, manipulated his way on tour with him, and never told Isaac they were related.”

Derek thinks for a moment, maybe he was just waiting for the right time.

But he’s been working for them for a few weeks, the time to come clean has long passed.

Derek ignores Erica and Boyd’s arguments from the room as he tries to clean up as best as possible before his inevitable trip down the hall to Stiles, to apologise and offer some support to him and his friends.

When Derek isn’t thinking about how badly he fucked up last night, he’s thinking about what it means to Isaac that Parrish lied to, and manipulated him,  _ all of them. _

To think - Derek was rooting for Parrish to take on the lead of their security. Foolish. All of them.

* * *

 

Stiles is running his fingers through Isaac’s hair whose head is resting in his lap. Scott is resting his head against Isaac’s belly, and Lydia is lying lengthwise along Isaac with her head resting on his shoulder. Allison is across the room berating an intern at  _ Argent Records _ for not putting the pieces together on who Parrish really was when they hired him.

Last Stiles was told, Parrish is sitting at the local police station until he’s determined a non threat. 

Isaac is staring blankly at the ceiling and Stiles tries to ease the tension from his brow with a couple strong thumbs, humming some of Isaac’s favorite indie songs while they wait for more information.

Stiles thinks back to when Isaac had told them that he had found out he had a brother, and since then, whenever they asked, Isaac was still set on not meeting his brother. At least not until after the tour was over so he would have time to process, and spend time with them to determine what they were hoping to get out of their relationship.

The last thing Isaac wanted was to feel like he had to cart him around throughout the rest of the tour, and find out that was  _ exactly _ what the unknown brother wanted. A few minutes of fame. 

The choice was taken from him.

Which only leads them all to believe that this was exactly what Parrish wanted. He wanted to feast on the fruits of fame. 

Stiles wants to punch him. Repeatedly. With sharp objects.

If Parrish had just waited for Isaac to initiate the meeting, he would have ended up with everything he wanted, and a brother who loved him, or at the very least, trusted him.

Stiles tries to listen in on Allison, and block out Lydia’s apologies. 

Lydia feels guilty for crushing on his brother, and essentially landing him the job on tour. No one blames her though.

Allison is giving it  _ hard _ to whoever she’s on the phone with. If it weren’t for the situation, Stiles would smile with pride at his favorite future  _ Argent Records’ _ president. Once Allison takes over the label, there will be no stopping her.

Stiles turns his head when he hears the tale-tell chime of a key card sliding into the door before it opens slowly. Stiles braces himself for who he knows will come through.

Derek steps around the corner slowly, laying his key card down on the entry table.

The others on and around Stiles’ lap don’t even look up, they just continue to block out the rest of the world and comfort Isaac.

Derek meets Stiles’ eyes and the emotion hanging there is just too much for Stiles to handle at the moment. Now is  _ not _ the time to try and resolve their fight from the night before. 

Stiles wants to apologize, has been playing out all the possible conversations to be had all night, only finding a few solid hours of sleep for himself, but he keeps coming around to the same conclusion.

He wants to apologize because it’s his fault that Derek is in this situation. This would have never happened in the past, because they never had any secrets. They talked about everything, but now Stiles keeps nothing but secrets, even if he’s been trying to come clean, he waited too long and things have gotten out of control. 

Then he thinks about the specifics of their fight. 

Derek was angry because he wouldn’t put out.

That never - that was never even a possibility in the past. Derek would have never have been so angry because of something like that - even if Stiles had held out on Derek (which he didn’t) Derek never would have lashed out so aggressively.

This can only mean that the man standing before him is  _ not  _ the Derek he knew.

Sure, he’s been aware that Derek is different, has thrived in the the realization, happy that Derek is happy, but  _ this…  _ this is breaking Stiles’ heart.

It makes him  _ not _ want to apologize because if he had come clean sooner he would have never learned this about Derek.

_ But  _ he has to apologize because it’s the right thing to do. He has no right to be mad at Derek when Derek has every reason to hate him after he knows the truth.

Stiles must let out an aggravated sigh because all eyes in the room redirect toward him with raised eyebrows. 

Derek ducks his head, knowing that it’s only a matter of moments before they all realize Stiles was sighing over him. 

Stiles takes pity on him and taps the bed beside him and Lydia, inviting him to join the puppy pile until Allison gets off the phone. It is his room too, after all, and they are all friends. They can talk later, and things aren’t irreparable yet.

Derek curls up along Lydia, keeping an inch gap between the two until Lydia reaches back and pulls him flush against her back. 

Stiles swallows, hit with the truth of how much his friends love Derek too, and how he took him away from them, and is well on his way to doing it again. How could he think waiting was the right thing to do?

They lay like that for awhile, and Derek grumbles into Lydia’s hair something, and she purses her lips and grunts an affirmative sound. 

Stiles doesn’t know what he says, but by the tone, and Lydia’s piercing eyes boring into Stiles’ he knows exactly what Derek must have said.

Derek has unintentionally paralleled  _ their  _ situation to Isaac and Parrish’s. 

Stiles is ashamed to think he hadn’t connected the dots himself. Here they all are, pissed at Parrish for manipulating Isaac into a relationship, when Isaac had no idea who he was getting to know. 

Stiles manipulated Derek into trusting him, without Derek knowing who he was getting to know.

_ Fuck. _

Stiles nods at Lydia and she blinks, approving his revelation.

“So..” Isaac finally speaks up, with a surprisingly chipper tone. “Derek, please, share with the class how you plan to kick Stiles’ ass on the  _ Lip Sync _ segment, because someone seriously needs to end his winning streak.”

There’s a few moments of silence as everyone wraps their head around the new line of conversation, before they all fall into a fit of giggles. 

Stiles pops Isaac’s temple, lightly. “Tell me how you really feel. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

They laugh harder, and Stiles looks over to Derek who's turning red and avoiding looking at anyone.

Stiles takes pity on him. “Don’t worry Derek, I’ll go easy on you.” 

Derek looks up at him, and Stiles winks. 

“Still totally going to kick your ass though.” Stiles bats his eyelashes.

Derek rolls his eyes, “Yea,” he says unsteadily, “Keep telling yourself that.”

Stiles’ jaw drops at the challenge and the bed erupts in a chorus of “Ohhhh!”’s and “Dayum!”s

“Oh, it is soooo  _ onnn!”  _ Stiles smiles, happy for a distraction, and to see a smile on Derek’s perfect face.

* * *

 

Derek takes advantage of Stiles’ absence that afternoon as they prepare for the show that night. 

Stiles is with Isaac and Allison at the police station, which leaves Derek with some much needed help.

“I was serious earlier.” Derek starts, looking over at Scott and Lydia.

Erica watches curiously from across the room as she flips through the TV guide.

“About beating Stiles.” Derek clarifies.

Scott laughs, until he realizes that Derek isn’t laughing with him.

Lydia straightens her back, with a smile caressing her cheeks that says that she is up to absolutely no good. “Yeah? Any ideas on how?”

Derek has no earthly idea, but he knows it has to be something  _ big _ . Something unexpected, because he has a reputation of reservation. No one ever sees him let loose. Derek isn’t even sure he ever has...

In a matter of minutes, he, Lydia, Scott, and Erica have a song chosen, and Derek regrets ever challenging Stiles in the first place.

He is going to make the biggest idiot of himself and his family just might disown him.  _ Oh, God _ .

They spend the next four hours ordering costumes, doing research, and rehearsing choreography.

* * *

 

“[You're a canary](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F7mMBSKYUFc) _ , I'm a coal mine! _ ” Stiles sings that night on stage in front of thousands of fans as per the usual. The lights burning his skin like the sun, raw and vulnerable. “ _ Cause sorrow is just all the rage. _ ” 

Stiles has had quite a few hours to think about Derek, and Lydia’s texts confirming what Derek had said in her hair earlier that morning. Stiles knows that when he comes clean, it will  _ absolutely _ shatter everything they have and there is nothing he can do to stop it.

“ _ Take one for the team. _ ” Stiles tells no one but himself. “ _ You all know what I mean… _ ” 

They don’t know yet, but Stiles is planning to tell Derek tonight, and assure him that he threatened the others not to tell him, and that they wanted to tell him every step of the way. Even if Stiles can’t have Derek, it doesn’t mean that everyone else can’t.

_ “And I'm so sorry, but not really. Tell the boys where to find my body!” _ Stiles knows that after his plan is complete, he’s sure to die of yet another broken heart, but he can’t keep this up any longer.

“ _ New York eyes, Chicago thighs… _ ” Stiles looks back toward Derek who is ever faithfully seated at the side of the stage. “ _ Pushed up the window to kiss you off. _ ” This next kiss will be the last, Stiles has to tell Derek tonight. 

_ “The truth hurts worse than anything I could bring myself to do to you… _ ” Stiles sings, knowing just how destroyed Derek is going to be, and how Stiles can’t imagine anything worse. 

He wrote this song long ago, and never realized just how much worse the truth was going to get.

_ “The truth hurts worse than anything I could bring myself to do to you…”  _ Stiles isn’t even sure how he’s performing, his body numb, his face slack. Too many emotions ragins internally to give any direction toward the extremities of his body.

_ “Do you remember the way I held your hand?” _ Stiles asks, turning back toward Derek, knowing he doesn’t. Doesn’t remember anything.  _ “Under the lamp post and ran home. This way so many times.”  _

Stiles fights the tears, not ready to admit he and Derek will never have their happily ever after.  _ “I could close my eyes…”  _ Stiles fights a laugh.

Kate won. Only, she didn’t really have to do anything. 

Stiles did this to himself.

_ “The truth hurts worse than anything I could bring myself to do to you!”  _ Stiles repeats the line, louder with each passing line, but weaker at the same time.

Stiles hears the track on the album in his head, and the mechanical voice saying  _ “Now press repeat.” _ And Stiles sobs, turning away from seeking eyes, at how fucking true it was. 

Sure, Stiles has every intention of telling Derek tonight, but he knows that he will keep hitting repeat and avoid it until his dying breath.

* * *

 

Stiles has grown exponentially irritated by Friday, the day of the  _ Lip Sync Battle _ .

Everyone, including Finstock, have banded together and has kept Derek away from him. Then each night when they curl up in their bunk on the bus, Derek always yawns dramatically and feigns sleep, refusing to talk to Stiles. 

Needless to say, Stiles is bothered.

Stiles is wrapped up with an interview and will be meeting everyone for the  _ Lip Sync Battle _ in a few hours. Everyone else is already there though getting ready, and Stiles can’t even allow himself to be excited because he and Derek haven’t freaking  _ talked, about anything! _

* * *

 

Derek’s nerves are at an all time high. Why did he ever think he could do this? 

They are running through a dress rehearsal, but Derek refused to put his costume on any sooner than he has to. He already tried it on, with Lydia and Erica’s help, because he couldn’t figure out all the freaking layers, and it was mortifying, but that is Derek’s life now.

This is what he gets for getting competitive all of a sudden. 

Freaking Stiles.

Stiles had been rubbing the battle in, and how he was going to decimate him, for almost a week before Derek said (without really thinking about the weight of his words) that he was going to beat Stiles’ ass. 

Shit.

Derek is now back stage with Erica, Isaac, Lydia, and Jackson all stationed around him touching him in places he rarely touches himself, and laying out all they will need to quickly apply last minute before his solo performance.

He and Stiles are actually doing something for the first time on the show. 

After Stiles’ serenaded Derek and they made their relationship public, the videos went viral. It was only 24 hours later that they were contacted by the show. They were asked to do a duet lip sync for their first song, because they wanted to host the first  _ official _ recording of them singing a duet (even if it was only a lip sync). So far all that is out on the internet among fans are jumpy handheld recording from audiences around the globe.

Lydia has set it up to where immediately after his and Stiles’ duet, Derek will sit at the side of the stage and watch Stiles’ solo performance while the others get ready in the back. Then he will go back stage and they will have just under seven minutes to get him ready. 

It will be a massive group effort, and Derek, the pessimist that he is, doesn’t think they will be able to pull it off. After a few hard hits to the back of his head from his support team, he’s stopped voicing his doubts, but they are still there.

However, even if Stiles hasn’t told anyone what he plans to do for his song, Derek knows that  _ if _ they pull this off, Stiles has no shot at winning.

_ That _ , he is certain.

* * *

 

“Just so you know,” Stiles shouts over the small wall separating them as they get dressed for their first song, having already started the show and recorded the opening segment. “Just because I’m Cher, doesn’t mean I am by any means the girl in this relationship.” 

Stiles doesn’t laugh, but Derek can hear the smile in his voice.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, as long as there  _ is  _ a relationship.” Derek responds, hiding his own smile as he adjusts the wig over his hair.

They haven’t really talked much the last few days because of the general chaos of tour, the Isaac and Parrish thing, and the fact that his  _ team _ (it’s what he’s calling them now) have torn him away from every spare moment he had, to rehearse for tonight. Derek even found himself in the bathroom for almost an hour so he could lay in an empty bathtub and take a nap. 

He appreciates them though, and he doesn’t hate his career either. He’s just tired.

Stiles comes around the dividing wall, dressed in long purple bell bottoms, a beige sweater, and tan fur vest. He has dark eyeliner on, and a long black wig. Stiles rushes over toward him, still cooing nonsense after Derek’s declaration, as though he isn’t dressed in 1960’s Drag. Stiles reaches him and cups his face before planting a very wet kiss on him.

Derek smiles into the kiss and pulls him close briefly, knowing they only have so much time before they go on.

Stiles leans back, arms still draped over Derek’s shoulders and bites back a smile. “You know, it’s really hard to smother you with poetry over how happy you just made me, when…” Stiles chokes on a laugh the further his eyes travel south.

Derek shakes his head and pushes him off. “You chose the song, and told me - and I quote ‘we aren’t going to half ass this shit, i’m talking hair, makeup, clothes, the works.’” It’s not exact, but Derek feels he quoted it close enough.

This only serves to make Stiles laugh harder.

Derek turns and looks at himself in the mirror. 

He’s got a chin length black wig with bangs, a deep brown shirt that is skin tight with a wide neckline across his collar bones, and maroon and white, vertical striped bellbottoms. 

Stiles reaches over and smoothes a finger over his cheek. “It’s so weird seeing you without the scruff.” 

Derek brushes his hand away but brings it back to kiss the back of his hand when a minute is called and they have to rush on stage.

* * *

 

The lights come up and they are surrounded by yellow, and an old time looking set. Stiles stands next to Derek, already flipping his hair and attempting to match Cher’s posture from her early years. 

When the music starts, Stiles begins mouthing the words, trying to look as shy as possible. “ _ T[hey say we're young](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BERd61bDY7k) and we don't know. We won't find out until we grow.”  _

Derek comes in next, leaning toward Stiles. “ _ Well I don't know if all that's true.”  _ Derek watched the classic video at least fifty-three times in an attempt to learn Sonny’s posture. He does his best to keep the wistful wobble in his stance.  _ “'Cause you got me, and baby I got you.” _ Derek leans over to Stiles, “ _ Babe _ .” He looks down and awat with a grin, at Stiles’ wide eyes as he realizes how much thought Derek put into his part. 

They both sing together, and Stiles, as hard as he’s trying to appear nervous, can’t actually change who he is and his confidence shows through. “ _ I got you, babe. I got you, babe.” _

Stiles looks around aimlessly, twisting his fingers together.  _ “They say our love won't pay the rent, before it's earned, our money's all been spent.” _

Derek rocks back and forth, clapping loosely with the music.  _ “I guess that's so, we don't have a pot, but at least I'm sure of all the things we got.”  _ He bounces on his toes as Stiles grins at him, and crosses his arms because he feels like his heart will burst out of his chest with how fucking beautiful Stiles is. “ _ Babe _ .”

_ “I got you, babe.”  _ They sing at each other.  _ “I got you, babe.”  _

Derek takes a deep breath, reminding himself this is just a stupid lip sync, but  _ God _ , he’s sunk.  _ “I got flowers in the spring. I got you to wear my ring.”  _ Derek keeps leaning in, wanting to kiss, but determined not to disappoint Stiles, and make sure he’s the perfect image of the iconic video from 1965.

_ “And when I'm sad, you're a clown!” _ Stiles sings,  _ actually sings _ , but of course the microphones are off.  _ “And if I get scared, you're always around!” _

Derek sways and smiles at the voice only he can hear.

_ “So let them say your hair's too long.”  _ Stiles continues, pulling on Derek’s wig and ruffling his scalp while giggling.  _ “'Cause I don't care, with you I can't go wrong.” _

Derek smiles, pressing into the weight of Stiles’ arm on his shoulder.  _ “Then put your little hand in mine.”  _ He twines his fingers with Stiles’ that are handing over his shoulder.  _ “There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb.” _ Derek runs his nose along Stiles’ hand. “ _ Babe _ .”

Stiles pulls away and starts clapping gently, looking all around as they sing together, but Derek’s eyes remain on Stiles.  _ “I got you, babe. I got you, babe.” _

Due to time constraints, they cut out the instrumental break, so Derek moves onto his next line, standing on his toes.  _ “I got you to hold my hand.” _

_ “I got you to understand!”  _ Stiles sings, and his voice sounds heavy, like he really means the words.

Derek doesn’t have long to think about it as he quickly follows with his line.  _ “I got you to walk with me.” _

_ “I got you to talk with me.” _

_ “I got you to kiss goodnight.”  _ Derek smiles, bright and big, leaning in close to Stiles.

Stiles is visibly blushing at this point.  _ “I got you to hold me tight!” _

_ “I got you, I won't let go!” _

_ “I got you to love me so!” _

They slow down with the music, and sing in unison, eyes only on each other.  _ “I got you, babe.” _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)
> 
> I intended to have a longer lead up to the Parrish reveal, but I am pushing the schedule of this fic up as fast as I can since there are a few impatient duckies. So please, don't think I threw this plot twist in last minute. I have been planning this since the first chapter, so lets pretend we had a long lead up (off screen) of Parrish solidifying friendships, and a near romance with Lydia for the past few weeks, and that none were the wiser. K? k.
> 
> As for the lip sync battle....So cute. Ugh. I have been dying to write these chapters (was all going to be in one, but now there will be two) since I saw Channing Tatum do Beyonce on the show. So, again, it's been a well thought out chapter. *squeals*
> 
> I couldn't resist the cut off point either. I am really hoping to see what you guys think the two of them will do, or what you would like to see them do. I've already written most of it, so there isn't changing it, but I would still love to play "Imagine If" with you all!
> 
> Any hoot! Luh you, guys. 
> 
> Honestly, you all are better than any antidepressants on the market, and I love you.


	20. Long live the car crash hearts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2nd half of the Lip Sync Battle.
> 
> And I'm not telling you anymore! You're going to have to read to find out!  
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy, and for those of you who have been commenting a lot... about a certain thing happening... well... yea...
> 
> *Runs Away*

“That was by far,” LL Cool J addresses Derek as he makes his way to the side of the stage while Stiles runs back stage to get ready for his solo performance. “-The most  _ unique _ choice I have witnessed on this show.”

Derek laughs, but takes the offered mic before him. “Hopefully, that’s a good thing?” Derek cringes, hoping that  _ that _ wasn’t the weirdest thing, because Lord, wait until they see what he has planned. Lydia had contacted the show before hand to make sure it was acceptable, so he’s not worried about going too far, but still.

“Oh, it’s a  _ very  _ good thing. We’re just used to either a bit more skin, or more comedy.” LL sits down, turning to face Derek with his whole body, buying time for Stiles backstage. “Was the song picked for the  _ song _ or the aesthetic of the classic recording?”

Derek turns the corners of his lips down, considering, and pulls his wig off. “I think Stiles just wanted to wear a wig.” He jokes, running his hands through his hair where it was pressed flat under the wig.

This of course earns him laughter all around, and he has to reach up and cover his mouth to hide his bunny teeth. 

“No, I’m kidding. Even if that is half true...” Derek clears his throat, and LL tilts his head waiting for him to elaborate. “It’s a great song, and I think it was a massive reason we chose it, but Stiles was pretty adamant about the presentation, and I couldn’t tell him no.”

The audience coo’s and LL makes a whipping motion in front of them with a quick ‘wichhh’ sound.

Derek doesn’t even try to deny it. He nods and looks down at his feet, knowing he would do  _ anything _ Stiles asked of him.

“So,” LL segue’s. “Stiles can’t hear us.” LL squints at Derek. “Is there anything you have heard about his performance? The producers never tell me anything, and Stiles is a hard guy to figure out, and based on his reputation, I’m not sure what to expect.”

Derek grins, and lets out a huge sigh. “I’m right there with you. He’s kept everything under wraps, I haven’t heard a whisper.”

“Was there any friendly competition leading up to the show?” LL asks with a shrug.

“Oh, of course.” Derek pinches his brow and flicks his nose in an attempt to hide his teeth. “For the first week after we were invited on - which thank you, by the way, this is one of the most fun things I have done since I started touring with  _ Fallout Shelter _ \- but he kept dropping comments like ‘Totally going to kick your ass next Friday!’ or ‘I’ll go easy on you, don’t worry, Babe.’” Derek is cut off by a chorus of ‘awe’s from the audience and a purse of LL’s lips at Derek’s slip.

LL points at him. “I’ve heard the expression ‘heart eyes’ before, but I don’t think I have ever seen them until you two came along.” By the smile that stays on his face, Derek knows that LL is enjoying picking on him, and probably trying to see how deep he can get him to blush and if he will pass out from the heat of it.

“The point is!” Derek tries to redirect, “He is  _ very  _ competitive.”

“Are you?” LL asks, probably worried that the producers chose the wrong competitor to go last, go out with a bang and all that jazz.

Derek shrugs, letting out a breath. “I wasn’t, but then I said something stupid without thinking and… then it just started - he really can’t hear us right now?”

LL leans in with an elbow on the bar conspiratorially. “Nope.”

Derek sighs, but leans in too. “I actually enlisted the help of his friends to help me prepare. They all really wants me to beat him.”

“Well, I sure hope you do.” LL smirks. “Alright, it seems Stiles is ready to go, so without further adoo-” LL gestures to the stage, and the lights go out.

Derek hears the music before he sees Stiles, and he wants to cover his face, because  _ of course! _

There is a set of double doors dead center, up stage, and just as Derek expected after hearing the intro, Stiles slides out sideways on white socks. 

The crowd goes wild as Stiles holds his pose, candlestick in hand, then flips around. _ “[Just take those old records ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ATTjGKJwhFI)off the shelf!” _ Stiles flings his leg out, showing his long, lean thighs that go up to barely visible, white boxer briefs under his light pink button up shirt.  _ “I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself.” _

Derek can’t take his eyes off of him. Sure, he’s seen Stiles in nothing but boxers plenty of times in hotel rooms while they relax and get ready for the day, but this is different.

Stiles flips his hair which is relaxed against his forehead and bouncing with his movement as he jerks to the music. 

Derek realizes he hadn’t seen Stiles hair today, the first time he saw him was when he came out wearing the Cher wig. Stiles must have planned for this with freshly washed hair without any product in it.

_ “Today's music ain't got the same soul.” _ Stiles points at the audience, coming closer to them. Smirking, probably knowing  _ exactly _ what he was doing to Derek.

Stiles walks over to where a fireplace has been set up, and Derek only now realizes there is a couch too. _ “I like that old time rock 'n' roll!”  _ Stiles bends his knees, with spread feet, and whips his head back and forth a few times.

Derek can’t decide if he’s  _ embarrassed  _ to see Stiles in his underwear in public (even though he, himself, will be doing worse in a few minutes),  _ turned on _ that his boyfriend is in his underwear in public, or  _ jealous _ that he’s in his underwear in public and everyone gets to see him.

_ “Don't try to take me to a disco!” _ Stiles flips around, still wiggling, and jumping around, a perfect imitation of Tom Cruise. He points this time at Derek, and Derek about folds in half, trying to make himself as small as possible.  _ “You'll never even get me out on the floor!” _

Derek has seen the movie at  _ least _ fifteen times, and he know what else will happen, if Stiles stays true to the film. Which, if Derek knows anything about anything, Stiles  _ will. _

_ “In ten minutes I'll be late for the door!”  _ Stiles hops up on the coffee table in front of the couch and spreads his legs lewdly, holding a fire poker at his crotch, stroking it lightly.  _ “I like that old time rock 'n' roll!” _

Derek laughs, knowing that Stiles  _ thought  _ he was holding back, and genuinely thought he would win with  _ this _ .

Oh, boy.

Stiles jumps off the table and onto his knees on the floor, bending backwards, singing dramatically, and doing Tom proud. He lightly bounces on his bent, obscenely wide, knees . The front row getting a pretty good view, that Derek is  _ definitely  _ jealous of.  _ “Still like that old time rock 'n' roll.” _

Derek want’s to wrap his hands around Stiles’ thighs, and never let go. He wants to thread his fingers through the long dusting of hair that covers the lean muscle.

_ “That kind of music just soothes the soul!”  _ Stiles hops up and shifts his feet, much like when Derek caught him boxing to the rocky soundtrack in their hotel room. 

Another thing Derek has learned about Stiles in the months he’s known him, is that Stiles  _ really _ likes the classics. Sure, Stiles still bounces with excitement when a new Marvel or DC movie is announced, but he loves the classics. Derek even remembers Stiles singing Sinatra a few times in the shower a few months back. 

Derek knows that clips of him watching Stiles are going to plague the internet for the next 24 hours  _ at least _ , but he’s just in awe.

Stiles is fucking perfect, and he never ceases to amaze Derek.

Stiles is just… his confidence is unrivaled, his limbs obeying him while he performs unlike when he is just trying to make it down a hall without bumping into something. When Stiles is performing, he’s in his element, and Derek can only hope to learn from him.

Stiles throws himself back on the couch and kicks without rhythm, the music just too much for him.  _ “I reminisce about the days of old!”  _ Stiles flips over onto his face and his shirt has hiked up over his ass, and Derek is not proud to say that he just  _ might  _ be drooling.  _  “With that old time rock 'n' roll!” _

Stiles hops off the couch and freezes, like the music just sent a shock through his system. He wiggles his butt at the audience, and pops his collar.

Derek finds himself imagining lazy afternoons when they aren’t on tour, and dancing around the privacy of their own home -

Good,  _ God _ ! When did Derek start thinking like  _ that?! _

Stiles plays air guitar, flips around, wiggles his ass some more, flips his hair - Derek loses track. 

He’s trying to come to terms with the fact that if given the chance, he would marry Stiles tomorrow, after the show even,  _ on the show! _

Derek just wants Stiles in his life forever, because he’s not even sure he was  _ living  _ before he met him.

Now, all Derek  _ does _ is  _ live! _

* * *

 

When the song ends Derek follows LL center stage to stand with Stiles, and Derek wraps his arms around Stiles from behind to whisper in his ear.

“I’m ready to talk.” Stiles goes rigid, but leans into Derek. “Even if I don’t think it’s important,  _ you do, _ and I want us to have the best chance at making this work.” Derek wants a future with him.

Stiles sighs, and Derek can’t see his face, but he can feel relief and fear in Stiles posture. 

“I  _ love you, Stiles.”  _ Derek says for the first time, and kisses Stiles’ temple, hoping to drain the remaining anxiety from his features. He just wants Stiles to be his…  _ forever _ . 

“You know that you’re still holding the mic, right?” LL asks, laughing.

Derek’s eyes go wide as he realizes that everyone just heard him. “Uhmm… gotta go, bye!” 

Stiles is still laughing as Derek exits the stage and runs back to get ready for his performance. He vaguely hears LL ask Stiles if he wants to put pants on, to which Stiles asks if anyone ever really wants to wear pants, because they are the worst.

Derek opens the door to his dressing room and is surprised to see an aqua wig.

The few people in the room; Isaac, Lydia, Erica, and Jackson all turn to him, already dressed and adding final touches. The Aqua wig turns last.

“About fucking time, Derek!” Adore shouts in his face, grabbing him hard and dragging him behind a wall to start ripping his clothes off.

“What-” Derek tries to ask as he damn near loses his balance with Adore tearing his pants off. “What are you doing here?” 

She grunts as she drags his pants down. 

“You know I can undress myself, right?”

“Then fucking do it already!” She laughs, standing back and gathering his costume.

“Okay, but seriously, what are you doing here?” Derek asks ripping his clothes off. 

“Who do you think mailed Lydia the costume?” She laughs, like it’s obvious.

He doesn’t get to answer because even as he’s still trying to pull his shirt off, she’s lifting his legs and pulling on the costume. Lydia and Erica are on either side of him starting to apply makeup, when Adore yells at them to stop, because that is her job.

Derek stops fighting and just stands there like a rag doll as they manipulate him every which way and get him ready.

Normally, he would be mortified, and extremely uncomfortable having so many hands on him, but he can’t help but feed on the energy around him. Everyone excited, and  _ needing _ to beat Stiles.

What  _ does _ throw him for a loop is when Adore shoves her hand down the front of his pants, and starts to  _ adjust  _ him. 

“What the  _ fuck are you doing?!”  _ Derek shouts ripping her hand away.

Lydia starts laughing so hard, Derek swears spit lands on his face.

Adore looks at him seriously, “Do you want to fucking win, or not, stupid?”

Derek stares her down.

“Time’s a tickin, sweet cheeks.” She smiles, knowing she’s already won. 

Derek looks up and away, and she sticks her hands back in his pants to adjust him. He’s not sure what is going to be more embarrassing… actually going on stage like this, or telling Stiles  _ how _ he got on stage like this.

Honestly, how do you casually say, “Yeah, so Adore touched my dick before you did, just FYI. No big.”

_ What even is his life anymore? _

* * *

 

“Not that anyone is complaining,” LL addresses Stiles, trying to buy time for the crew to set the stage. “But I think everyone was expecting a little more from you.”

Stiles stopped paying attention after his set was removed, and focussed his attention on LL and the audience, back toward the stage, and legs crossed on his stool. “More?!” Stiles gawks, “Are you kidding?! I just gave you vintage ‘65 Sonny and Cher,  _ and  _ ‘83 Tom Cruise,  _ Risky Business _ .”

LL nods, like he’s considering.

“Honestly.” Stiles smiles crossing his arms. “Can you say,  _ Winning _ ?”

LL shrugs, “I dunno, man. It just seems like you might have been holding back.”

Stiles blows a raspberry through his pursed lips.

“For your boyfriend, maybe?” LL winks.

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Look, we all know Derek, okay. There’s winning, and then there is Over Kill.” 

LL’s jaw drops, and he looks around scandalized.

“Stop!” Stiles shouts covering his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean it like that! I just - you know - he’s reserved - and - and - I’m not. UGH!” Stiles groans burying his head in his hands. “Shutting up.” 

LL eventually stops laughing, and clasps a hand on Stiles shoulder. “Look, I might start getting worried if I were you.”

“Why?” Stiles pops his head up. 

LL’s dimples grow prominent, and he leans in conspiratorially. “Well, while you were getting ready, Derek and I talked… and well… I’ll let you see for yourself.”

Stiles follows his eyes to a large monitor above the stage and watches Derek tell LL that  _ their friends _ helped him!

“That’s cheating!” Stiles points at the screen like he can get Derek disqualified. “You can’t enlist help!” 

LL shrugs his shoulders, “Maybe you shouldn’t underestimate your competition?”

“Clearly.” Stiles laughs, not really upset, but completely thrown for a loop. “Or maybe not underestimate the people who are  _ supposed  _ to be  _ my _ friends.”

Their laughter is cut off by a suddenly dark studio. No light anywhere. 

A small light comes up, barely illuminating two of the traitors who decided to help Derek. Stiles squints as they lip along to the track, and Stiles isn’t even listening, because is that  _ Adore with Jackson?! _

_ “Brad, I’m cold, and wet, and just plain scared!” _ Adore complains, letting her arms flap at her sides, and Stiles still can’t make out what they are wearing, but something is really familiar.

_ “I’m here. There’s nothing to worry about.” _ Jackson smiles, raising his arm to take Adore under his wing. 

Then they look up in confusion and a low beat starts playing over the speakers. The light trails slowly up, and then Stiles sees the white, rhinestone, heels inside a metal gate elevator as it descends.

Stiles forgets how to breathe.

The heel taps along to the rhythm, back to the audience, and finally the elevator lands behind Jackson and Adore. 

Adore screams and falls over when Derek turns around.

“Shut the fuck up!” Stiles yells, falling off the stool. There is just no way.  _ NO WAY! _

_ “[How d'you do, ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AR6wKRWFOoE)I... see you've met my...faithful handyman.”  _ Derek turns around, long black cape covering him head to toe, but Stiles can see Derek’s makeup, and hair. The sticky lipstick framing Derek’s teeth.

Derek smirks, taking a few steps toward Jackson out of the elevator. _ “He's just a little brought down because, when you knocked, he thought you were the candyman.” _

If Stiles had time to  _ think _ about this he would notice, and stare in wonder at how easily Derek has stepped into this character.

Derek walks out to the beat, cape still covering him, and Stiles wants to rip it off, because there is  _ no way _ Derek is wearing what someone  _ would have to wear for this song! _

_ “Don't get strung out by the way that I look!”  _ Derek looks over to Stiles, and Stiles is sure his jaw has hit the floor.  _ “Don't judge a book by its cover!” _

Jackson and Adore follow, in character, but Stiles can’t pay attention to them. He vaguely registers that there are other people are on the stage, but all he sees is Derek.

_ “I'm not much of a man by the light of day!” _ Derek flips when he reaches a fancy looking chair at the front of the stage. He’s facing the audience.  _ “But by night I'm one hell of a lover!” _

Derek throws off the cape.

Stiles is on the floor. What the actual  _ fuck!  _

_ “I'm just a sweet transvestite!”  _ Derek steps forward, hands on his hips, and definitely feeling himself.  _ “From Transexual, Transylvania, ha ha” _ Derek rolls his hips, smiling back at Stiles, and Stiles bows. 

Derek has won. Game over.  _ Holy shit. _

Derek takes a few quick steps across the stage, smirking, and flipping his curly wig.  _ “Let me show you around, maybe play you a sound. You look like you're both pretty groovy.”  _ Derek cringes Frankfurter's distaste of the uninvited guests, once he’s passed Jackson and Adore, looking right at Stiles. 

“NOOOOO!” Stiles yells again, still not believing his eyes.

Derek flips back around and starts pushing Jackson and Adore across the stage, with painted, press on nails. _ “Or if you want something visual that's not too abysmal. We could take in an old Steve Reeves movie.” _

Jackson starts talking and Stiles isn’t listening. He’s seen the movie, he is too busy taking in Derek’s attire.

Derek is wearing dark panties with a dark silver belt that matches the material of his corset, which is cinched tight, and not leaving _anything to the imagination._ All the skin that Stiles can see is _bare, he fucking shaved everywhere!_ Stiles has it on good authority that _that_ is not an easy task. He’s got thigh high stockings on with garters, and white platform heels. 

_ How is he even walking in those? Did he practice?! _

He has the pearl necklace, and his makeup is spot on. Stiles finally understands why Adore is here.

Derek flips back around,  _ “Well, you got caught with a flat, well, how about that?” _

Stiles didn’t even know Derek could  _ be  _ this expressive. 

_ “Well, babies, don't you panic. By the light of the night, it'll all seem alright.”  _ Derek struts back toward his chair and is joined by Erica who’s decked in gold, and  _ where did she come from?! _

Stiles crawls on the floor toward Derek slowly, needing a closer view, but LL holds him back.

Derek flips his head around.  _ “I'll get you a satanic mechanic.” _

Erica turns around with him, both of them propping their hands on their hips and shaking them. 

_ “I'm just a sweet transvestite.” _ Derek gyrates his hips, and  _ no _ , Stiles does  _ not _ have a boner.  _ “From Transexual, Transylvania, ha ha!” _

When Derek sits down on the chair, throwing his legs over the side, he finally sees the other traitors. Isaac is in a bald cap and wig, behind Derek’s head, looking creepy as ever.

Erica is settled at his feet, caressing the soft fishnet stockings covering his toned calves, and Stiles briefly wonders how she hid all of her hair in that gold top hat.

Then he looks up and  _ freaking _ Lydia is resting against her arms and smirking at Stiles. The red curly wig really does her no good, but she looks the part, and it works. 

Derek looks over at Stiles.  _ “Why don't you stay for the night?” _

_ “Night!”  _ Isaac bites out, enjoying this way too much.

_ “Or maybe a bite?” _ Derek asks, shit eating grin in place, character falling as he watches Stiles  _ quite literally _ fall over himself.

_ “Bite!”  _ Erica echos, licking her lips.

Derek looks down at Stiles with heavy lidded eyes, and oh, sweet baby Jesus, Stiles is so fucking turned on right now.  _ “I could show you my favorite obsession.” _

Lydia bites her lips, trying to seem unaffected, but Stiles can tell she chose her part for optimum viewing of Stiles  _ freaking the F out! _

_ “I've been making a man.” _ Derek reaches back and plays with the hair of Isaac’s wig, then leans forward to clarify just what type of man he’s making.  _ “With blond hair and a tan, and he's good for relieving my…”  _ Derek licks his lips. _ “-tension.” _

Stiles collapses fully on the floor, no strength left in his body, and unable to move because LL will not allow him to join the performance on stage.

Derek stretches his legs out, crossing them over as he rises from the chair.  _ “I'm just a sweet transvestite.” _

Stiles is pretty sure he’s drooling when Derek twists his ass out, presenting it, and Stiles knows that ass  _ all too well. _

_ “From Transexual, Transylvania, ha ha” _

The others pose behind him on the vacated chair, and Stiles can’t really be mad at them for betraying him, because holy, God! This is  _ everything _ .

_ “Hit it, hit it!” _ Derek slaps his own ass, and if Stiles thought he was done before, he’s really done now.  _ “I'm just a sweet transvestite.”  _ Derek rolls his arms before jumping forward and walking right up to Stiles and pressing his heel into Stiles shoulder and making him roll over.

Stiles looks up, salivating, wanting nothing more than to run his tongue up Derek’s thighs. Up close he can see the temporary tattoos to complete the look.

Derek turns with a smirk and struts back toward the elevator.  _ “From Transexual, Transylvania, ha ha!” _ He shoves past Adore and Jackson, hips sashaying as he goes.

The music slows and Stiles realizes he never wants this to be over, he just wants to be allowed to  _ touch. _

Derek stops in the elevator, propping his arms on the sides.  _ “So, come up to the lab and see what's on the slab.” _

It’s sinful the way Derek is displaying himself. 

Stiles props himself on his knees for a better view across the stage.

_ “I see you shiver with antici-” _

“YESSSS!” Stiles shouts, beyond proud of his man as he draws out the pause.

_ “-Pation.” _ Derek smiles over at Stiles who is just babbling praise at this point. Derek keeps his expression calm,  _ very _ in character.  _ “But maybe the rain! Is really to blame. So I'll remove the cause...but not the symptom!”  _ The elevator lifts and Stiles falls flat on his face and listens to the studio of people holler, and cheer, and knows without a fact, that Derek just wiped the floor with him.

* * *

 

Stiles is still lying on the floor as his friends circle around him. Hands find his limbs and pull, as they try to make hims stand up.

“I’m dead.” Stiles bites against the floor. “Go on without me!”

Honestly, he can’t see himself functioning  _ ever again. _

Outwardly, he has to act like this is a new relationship, and that this was just something he hadn’t expected. You know, surprising, but not earth shattering.

Instead, Stiles is looking back on the last six years of his life, and finally seeing just how much Derek has changed. How  _ happy _ he is. How he  _ really is _ doing things  _ for himself.  _

Stiles could cry at how proud of Derek he is, if you know… he wasn’t hiding his raging boner from far too many eyes. Who knew he would have a thing for Derek in Drag, honestly though, who is Stiles kidding? He’s got a thing for Derek’s  _ everything _ . Derek could be wearing a mustard stained shirt, and Stiles would still find a reason to pop a semi.

Stiles feels more than sees everyone’s attention turn toward the back of the stage and Stiles peaks open an eye to see Derek walking back out with a black silk robe on, and the wig removed as well as the heels. Stiles watches Derek’s bare feet come closer, toes spreading against the floor within the confines of the stockings. 

Stiles climbs to his feet clumsily, and Derek holds out a hand to help him up. Honestly, it’s the least he could do given he just killed Stiles on every level.

LL is talking to them, but Stiles isn’t paying attention. 

Stiles is trying to pry Derek’s robe open so he can get a closer look at the costume.

Derek of course fight him, and raises a finger to LL.

Stiles turns and LL is biting his lip.

“I was asking you what you thought of Derek’s performance, but I think it’s pretty obvious now.”

Stiles laughs and grabs Derek’s hand to raise it in the air. “He wins!” Stiles drops to his knees and makes dramatic waves of his arms as he worships the ground Derek walks on. 

“You win, EVERYTHING! OH, my God!” Stiles cries.

Derek lifts him back up with a laugh, and even though he’s got a thick layer or white foundation on, Stiles can see his neck, chest, shoulders, freaking  _ every stretch of skin _ , tinged pink with a blush.

Stiles manages to tune back into the conversation around him, and listen to how Derek had told Lydia he wanted to beat him, and she jumped on it. How she and Erica chose the song, and how Derek had nearly fainted. How Lydia called the producers to make sure it wasn’t too much, and called Adore for the costumes. How they had rehearsed and watched the movie over and over all week so that Derek could get it down.

Stiles  _ now _ understands why everyone was keeping him from Derek, and why Derek wouldn’t talk to him at night. A) he was tired. And B) probably nervous.

He hears how Derek was prepped for the show, and how before Stiles even made it to the studio, Jackson, Erica, Isaac, and Lydia had surrounded him with wax strips and razors to get him ready for the costume. 

“You mean?!” Stiles gestures vaguely at his butt and general private area with raised brows.

“Mostly.” Derek answers, blushing harder.

Stiles shakes his head. “I am never letting you take that off.”

“Get your own costume. That’s mine! I’m taking it back, it was a fucking loan!” Adore laughs, pulling at Derek’s robe like she is going to take it back right then.

Stiles zones out again, staring at Derek, actually considering buying the costume, and maybe even the small gold costume the creation wore.

Derek licks his lips and slowly, with his side to the audience, opens his robe for Stiles to  _ finally _ get a closer look. Stiles groans and walks forward between the opening of Derek’s robe. 

“Oh, the things I would do to you if there weren’t microphones and cameras on us right now…” Stiles breathes quietly. A few chuckles erupted around him, so he knows that at least a few people know what is on his mind.

Derek freaking  _ wiggles _ his hips with a smirk. 

“Are we done here?” Stiles blurts looking at LL.

LL laughs, “We  _ are  _ actually, I just said that, even. Thanks for paying attention.”

Stiles snaps his mouth shut, trying to figure out how to apologize, because he is being all kinds of rude right now.

“It’s okay.” LL assures with an outstretched hand. “You’ve got a lot going on right now.” He winks, then adds quietly. “Might have discovered a new kink?” 

“Oh my god.” Stiles blushes, eyes wide, then attempts to hide in Derek’s robe as they all laugh.

* * *

 

Stiles rests his head against Derek’s bare stomach in the privacy of their hotel room for the night. They’ve only been alone for less than ten minutes and the first thing they did was put up the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door, pull off their layers of clothes, and crawl into bed. 

Derek has already turned on the TV to NatGeo, and Stiles has made himself comfortable atop Derek’s belly. 

It’s nice. 

Stiles may not have  _ slept  _ with Derek in ages, but the skin on skin contract doesn’t tease at him anymore. He’s happy to just be near Derek, and if they spend of their lives  _ only  _ this close, Stiles would still consider it a win.

Derek hums his contentment as Stiles slides his fingertips across the planes of his stomach, outlining the definition of his muscles.

After the show, Derek, (unfortunately) had to give the costume back and change back into street clothes, but not before Stiles got his hands on him in his changing room. Derek got a few gropes in too, since Stiles was still wearing the white briefs and loose, pink, button up shirt.

Again, it was all pretty innocent. Much like before, when they would be walking around their hotel room, relaxed, and would touch, just for the sake of touching. 

Stiles’ heart constricts at the thought of how even though Derek has changed significantly in the last few years, they still work the same. 

The foundation is still there. 

After they left the studio their group stopped in the bar downstairs in the hotel and drank far too much, then crawled to their hotel room and continued to laugh and talk about the show. Stiles didn’t drink much because he was already too high on life, and he didn’t want to ruin the memory of this night.

Until now, he had forgotten that Derek was finally ready to talk, and even the fact that there was anything to talk  _ about _ .

Stiles braces himself, but now that Derek is finally conceding to know the truth, Stiles can’t back out now. It’s time.  _ Past _ time even.

Stiles turns his head to kiss the cross lines in Derek’s stomach, the muscles bunching beneath his lips all too familiarly. 

Derek cards his fingers through his hair, palming the back of his head. “You’re worried.” 

Stiles didn’t think it was that obvious, but Derek has always had a pretty good read on him. “Yeah.” It’s all Stiles can say. 

“Why?” Derek asks, still carding his hands through Stiles’ hair.

“Because you finally agreed to talk to me, and it didn’t really set in until now.” Stiles mumbles, lips brushing across Derek’s smooth hairless skin.

“We don’t have to.” Derek offers, and Stiles is not proud to admit he wanted to jump on the  _ out  _ given to him. “Honestly, Stiles, there’s nothing you can tell me to make me turn my back on you.”

Stiles’ heart seizes in his chest,  _ if only that were true _ .

“I love you, and I want us to last.” Derek says quietly, his fingers like kisses on Stiles’ scalp.

“Say it again.” Stiles smiles, burying his face into Derek’s sternum. It having been too long since he heard those words.

Derek chuckles and pulls Stiles up by the armpits and settles Stiles over his chest. 

Stiles looks down into Derek’s honest, green eyes. Stiles spent many nights trying to decipher the exact shade of Derek’s iris’ but eventually gave up and settled on a complex green. 

Derek traces the lines of Stiles’ face. “I love you, Stiles.”

Stiles licks his lips. This was what he was waiting for, right? For Derek to fall in love with him again. “You know, I can’t decide if I’m upset or not that you decided to tell me you love me for the first time on the show where I couldn’t react appropriately.” Stiles, true to form, grabs onto something to buy time before he ignites the fuse on the truth bomb.

Derek rolls his eyes.

Stiles leans down and catches Derek’s lips as he rolls his head with the force of his eye roll. 

Derek sighs into Stiles’ kiss, and brings his arms around Stiles’ middle, holding him close.

“Alright.” Stiles mumbles against Derek’s lips, before sucking one last kiss away. This, very well, may be the last kiss he ever gets. “Let’s rip this bitch of a bandaid off, shall we?” Stiles asks, pushing himself up and away, avoiding Derek’s eyes. 

Stiles grabs a pair of pants and a shirt. 

“Why are you getting dressed?” Derek asks, eyebrows pinched together as he sits up in the bed. The large comforter pooling around his lap. 

Stiles lets out a humorless laugh as he pulls on his pants. “So that if you tell me to get lost, we don’t have to suffer the awkward minute of me trying to find my clothes, or worse I find myself in my underwear in the hall.”

“I’m not going to kick you out.” Derek rolls his eyes. “Stop being dramatic.”

Stiles looks up at him, biting his lip. “You forget how well I know you.” Stiles flinches at his choice of words.  _ Forget. _ Derek did forget. “I know you more than you think.” Stiles whispers as he sits, fully clothed on the chair across the room.

Derek remains still, but unbelieving, and only humoring Stiles it seems.

“So.” Stiles starts, twisting his fingers together in his lap. “I’ve told you a lot about my past, and my ex, and how I didn’t do so well after.”

Derek nods.

“To recap-” Stiles decides to ghost over the important details, maybe with them fresh in Derek’s mind he won’t jump to the wrong conclusion when Stiles tells him, that his ex is him. “I fell in love with someone who I shouldn’t have because they were already taken -”

Stiles is cut off by a knock on the door. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Stiles groans, standing to walk to the door, as he shouts through it. “The sign says  _ do not disturb!”  _ Here he is trying to  _ finally _ tell Derek and he’s interrupted. He opens the door and it’s Allison. 

“Sorry, Stiles. This is important.” She says, eyes pinched, and trying to look past him.

Stiles sighs, but steps back, motioning for her to come in. “Of course it is.”

She walks in and looks right at Derek. “I just got an email from the label. The details aren’t important, but tomorrow morning, an article will be released about your accident, and your memory loss.”

Stiles’ spine fuses together. This was something Derek hoped to keep under wraps and never have to share. It’s Derek’s biggest insecurity, his weakness. His kryptonite.

“What?” Derek asks, breathless. “Why? How?”

“I don-” Allison starts but now Stiles steps up, wanting to lash out at whoever is trying to hurt Derek.

“Is it Kate?” Stiles asks with a hard tone. “I’ll fucking kill her, Allison.”

“I - I don’t know.” Allison admits, looking worried. “I’ve been trying to pull the article, and pay off the source for almost two hours since I was told, but I can’t seem to make this go away like normal.” She looks between them. “Something’s different.”

Stiles bares his teeth. 

She places a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Look, I am going to do everything I can. Peter is on a plane now to come help since he is Derek’s official manager, but since Derek isn’t protected by the label, I am not able to do as much as I would like.”

Stiles feels his limbs go cold. How could he be so stupid? He should have… what would he have done? It was a basic contract, just enough to keep  _ Were! _ out from under Kate’s control. He never realized it would leave them vulnerable in other ways. He may have had one or two distractions along the way...

She grabs some clothes and hands them to Derek. “I’m afraid we won’t be getting much sleep tonight. I need you to come with me so we can try and keep this article from the media.”

Derek nods and stands up to get dressed.

Stiles grabs his and Derek’s wallet and card keys, ready to follow them out the door when Derek stops and places a hand to Stiles’ chest.

“You should stay and get some rest. I can handle this. This isn’t your problem.” Derek says calmly, leaning in and giving Stiles a kiss.

“No, Derek I -” Stiles tries.

Derek smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Really, it’s bound to come out at some point.” Derek chuckles darkly to himself. “Funny. My mom’s friend used to say something, and I never really had a reason to apply it to my own life before, but she used to say ‘Three things cannot long be hidden. The Sun, the Moon, and the Truth.’ I’m just hoping we can kill the article so I can release my own, on my own terms. Maybe let Boyd write it.”

Stiles nods, swallowing hard. “Okay. Well. I have my phone, and I will turn the volume up. If you need  _ absolutely anything _ call me, okay?”

Derek smiles as he leans forward to bump his nose against Stiles’. “Of course. Get some sleep.”

They leave, and Stiles doesn’t get much sleep, trying to wait up for updates or for them to come back through the door cheering with their victory, but nothing happens.

Stiles falls asleep around six in the morning. 

* * *

 

Stiles wakes up around nine when he hears the ding of the keycard in the door. He sits up rubbing his eyes, and Derek stumbles through the door, dead on his feet. “Crisis averted?” 

Derek shakes his head slowly, toeing off his shoes. “All we could do was give  _ Argent Records _ permission to release their own article before the other source so that at least it’s on my terms.”

Stiles lets out a breath and stands to give Derek a hug. “We have a few more hours before we have to get on the bus. You should lay down. I need to pee, but I’ll be right back.

Derek nods and starts undressing. 

Stiles uses the restroom and decides to brush his teeth real quick. 

He hears his and Derek’s phone ding. Knowing it must be an email that was sent to both their bands, Stiles walks out still brushing his teeth and grabs his phone from the night stand. 

He walks back into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. If Derek turned the lights off and tried to go to sleep, he wouldn’t be bothered by Stiles cleaning up in the bathroom for a few more minutes.

It’s an email from the label, and Stiles is about to ignore it, assuming it’s about the statement they plan to release about Derek’s accident when he gets another email only seconds later from Kate that says-

_ Checkmate. _

Stiles’ heart ticks up a few notches and he quickly backtracks to the email he got from the label. There’s a link to the article that has just been released and Stiles clicks it and starts reading.

* * *

 

> **_Argent Records discovers that one of their top artists abused their power over one new, pink skinned, artist - Derek Hale._ **
> 
> _ Argent Records has been protecting Derek Hale from allowing the media to exploit his personal life since he signed on to open for Fallout Shelter almost a year ago. _
> 
> _ Derek and Were! at the Disco didn’t sign directly with Argent Records, and instead signed temporarily with Fallout Shelter, where Fallout Shelter has incurred all expenses for Were! At the Disco on tour, and allowed them to interact with their own fan base to build their own. The plan was for Argent Records to try to bring them onto the label officially if they were worthy of a contract at the end of the tour. _
> 
> _ It’s clear that they are, and as soon as the tour comes to a close there are already a handful of contract ready to be discussed.  _
> 
> _ That is not the point of this article though. _
> 
> _ Let the record show that Derek Hale gave his permission to his managers to release his medical history through their own channels, which is why we, Argent Records, are releasing this statement. _
> 
> _ In 2011 Derek Hale was involved in a near fatal car crash and was landed in the hospital with multiple injuries and a coma that lasted just under a month. When he awoke, the doctors soon learned that he had suffered Post Traumatic Retrograde Amnesia, and lost two years of memory.  _
> 
> _ At Derek’s previous wishes to not publicly acknowledge this, Argent Records has been killing any article or post related to the accident.  _
> 
> _ It has come to our attention, that while killing these articles, we missed an incredibly dangerous piece of Derek’s history.  _
> 
> _ Derek was involved in the accident because, at the time, he was in a long term relationship with Kate Argent, an representative here at Argent Records. They had been together since their adolescence - high school sweethearts, you could say. Derek, had cheated on Kate while traveling with her on tour with one of the bands she represented. _
> 
> _ The two of them were driving, Kate angry and crying, Derek apologizing, when they clipped a Semi.  _
> 
> _ Kate never told us the details of the accident, or why it happened, until recently. We all assumed it was just that - an accident. _
> 
> _ We have now learned something that will change the way we see on of our clients forever. _
> 
> _ The man that Kate found Derek in bed with was none other than our very own, Stiles Stilinski from Fallout Shelter, who Kate was managing and on tour with. _
> 
> _ Kate has finally come forward and talked about the details of what happened because the only ones that know the truth are her and Stiles, since Derek lost his memory. _
> 
> _ She was a new agent at the time, and was working very hard to give Fallout Shelter all they could dream of, and worked long hours into the night. This left her Fiance, Derek Hale, alone with the band most days. _
> 
> _ Kate blames herself for not being around more. Maybe if she had, Stiles wouldn’t have taken advantage of Derek’s lonely nights. If she had been around more, it wouldn’t have happened, they would be married now, and the accident would have never hurt Derek so deeply. Kate expressed how she would give anything to go back and do things differently. _
> 
> _ Kate has been with us for years, and many of us here at the office can recall her bringing coffee after school when she was younger, dreaming of growing up and being like her father. None of us can believe what she has dealt with, how she continued to work so diligently all these years since, and is still managing Fallout Shelter after what Stiles Stilinski cost her. _
> 
> _ That is just who she is. A strong, independent, career driven, woman. _
> 
> _ This statement isn’t about her though. _
> 
> _ This is about how Kate Argent reached out to Derek Hale when she found out he had joined an unknown band. She wanted to help him. Argent Records offered a short contract to allow him to open for one of their existing headline artists for a year and see if they could turn a profit.  _
> 
> _ Kate gave him a list of artists who still needed an opening act for this year of tours. _
> 
> _ Please note that Fallout Shelter was not on this list, because Kate didn’t want Derek to be taken advantage of again. _
> 
> _ The next day, somehow Derek showed up to Kate’s office with Stiles who had signed Derek to a short term contract himself. _
> 
> _ We cannot say what Stiles intention was when signing Were! At the Disco as their opener for their 2016 tour, or if any of the other members of his band were aware of the history. _
> 
> _ All we can say is that in the months since Were! At the Disco joined them on tour, Stiles and Derek have gone public with a relationship, and according to our sources, Derek is unaware of their history. _
> 
> _ We can only speculate at the motivations and details of their current and past relationship, but we can only assume the worst. Which is why Kate Argent finally came forward and told the higher ups that one of our clients might be a danger to Derek Hale. _
> 
> _ It saddens us to say that after this tour, and Fallout Shelter’s contract is up, we will be terminating all ties with the band. We cannot, with good conscience, represent someone who would hurt one of our own. _
> 
> _ If Were! At the Disco would still like to join us here at Argent Records we will be happy to represent them so Derek Hale is no longer is affiliated with or reliant on Fallout Shelter, or Stiles Stilinski.  _
> 
> _ We are contacting his manager today to make an offer.  _
> 
> _ Derek may not still be with Kate, due to reasons we are not privileged to, but she and by extension us, care about his future and will do everything we can to protect him. _
> 
> _ If you are still questioning the validity of this, please see the sources of Derek’s official medical release details below provided by Derek Hale and the hospital that treated him, and the image below of Stiles and Derek at a party in 2010 while Kate was managing the tour on the road with her Fiance’ Derek Hale. _
> 
> _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, the moment you have all been waiting for. The truth is out. Or at least a version of it.
> 
> ....please don't hate me.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	21. ACT 2: The best part of "Believe" is the "Lie"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where the shit hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had every intention of posting this Friday, but just as I was pulling it up to do a final edit run through, I found out about Disturbed coming to town that night and I impulsively bought three tickets for myself, brother, and little sister, so we could meet up with my best friend and her little sister. It was awesome, in case you were wondering. I never thought I would see Disturbed live. *Happy Sigh* They were one of the first true rock bands I ever fell in love with, them and Manson. Ugh, now I just need to get my hands on those tickets and my childhood dreams will be complete - well until Nsync decides to do a reunion tour... but that's another story all together. 
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy the latest installment of SIFTTOYL (Honestly, why did I make the name so long?! I keep debating on changing it, but the name is the core of this fic... ya know?) 
> 
> I want to take one more moment of your time to thank each and every one of you who commented and kudo'd the last chapter, it was an all time high since I started writing this. I can't remember the last time I smiled that much. I love you all!

Stiles stops breathing half way through the article when he sees his name. This is the worst thing that could have happened. He takes a deep breath when he finishes reading it, his eyes scanning over multiple sections of the article.

> _ The man that Kate found Derek in bed with was none other than our very own, Stiles Stilinski from Fallout Shelter, who Kate was managing and on tour with. _

Stiles wants to punch something, because this is technically true, but this is not how Derek should have found out. Stiles should have told him the truth months ago, but that is news to absolutely no one.

> _ She was a new agent at the time, and was working very hard to give Fallout Shelter all they could dream of, and worked long hours into the night. This left her Fiance, Derek Hale, alone with the band most days. _

Stiles stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. Of course she would go there.  _ Fiance?  _ Really? They weren’t ever engaged. Stiles may be a terrible person, but he’s not  _ that _ bad. Not that an engagement would have stopped his feelings for Derek, but things would have gone very differently, and if Derek were engaged to her there would have to be a much stronger connection between them, and Derek would have never been interested in Stiles in the first place. 

But that is neither here nor there.

> _ Kate blames herself for not being around more. Maybe if she had, Stiles wouldn’t have taken advantage of Derek’s lonely nights. If she had been around more, it wouldn’t have happened, they would be married now, and the accident would have never hurt Derek so deeply. Kate expressed how she would give anything to go back and do things differently. _

Stiles feels the bile burn in the back of his throat. This is such a load of crap. Who even  _ wrote _ this?

> _ still managing Fallout Shelter after what Stiles Stilinski cost her. _

Cost her? All Stiles did was show Derek what it felt like to be loved. Kate never cared about long term with Derek! Stiles shakes his phone in his fist, knowing that his thoughts are pointless, there’s no taking back the article now. He had his chance to come clean, and he didn’t take it, because he’s a  _ fucking coward! _

> _ The next day, somehow Derek showed up to Kate’s office with Stiles who had signed Derek to a short term contract himself. _

Yup, because Stiles is the bad guy here. Almost forgot. Got it.

> _ We cannot say what Stiles intention was _

To fucking  _ protect _ Derek!

> _ Derek is unaware of their history. _

All Stiles can do is stare at himself in the mirror, because it’s true. Derek knows nothing.

> _ we will be terminating all ties with the band. _

Fuck. They have literally been doing everything they could to get out of their contract… but this...

> _ so Derek Hale is no longer affiliated with or reliant on Fallout Shelter, or Stiles Stilinski.  _

God Dammit! Derek is never going to forgive him.

> _ image below of Stiles and Derek at a party in 2010 while Kate was managing the tour on the road with her Fiance’ Derek Hale. _

Stiles keeps looking at the picture. He doesn’t have any pictures of him and Derek because the Label cleared his phone and the internet of all old photos to protect the three of them. 

He remembers this night. 

It was about a week after Derek kissed him for the first time, and they accepted their feelings for one another. Derek had just started smiling regularly, and Scott snapped this photo to show Stiles later just how happy he made Derek when Stiles doubted his decision to pursue his relationship with Derek. 

Stiles runs a thumb down the side of Derek’s face in the photo, memorizing his smile, because he may never see it directed at him ever again.

Stiles wants to scream, cry, throw his phone, because this  _ isn’t _ what was supposed to happen! He was prepared for Derek to be angry, but not because he thought Stiles took advantage of him then and now, but because Stiles kept it from him - because Stiles had lied to him. Stiles was prepared for  _ that _ .

Stiles can feel the panic sinking in, he steadies his breathing, because he doesn’t have time to indulge in a panic attack right now. He’s not the victim here, Derek is, and Stiles needs to open the bathroom door and finally face him.

If Stiles is lucky, Derek hasn’t read the article, and is sleeping already so Stiles can prepare him first and explain his side before Derek is thrown off by the article. 

Stiles’ luck has never been kind to him, so he’s not putting all of his eggs in  _ that  _ basket.

He squares his shoulders, takes a deep breath, looks in the mirror to see how wrecked he is, and looks away quickly because he hasn’t seen  _ that _ reflection since after Derek’s accident. This is going to be a rough few hours.

Stiles opens the bathroom door and the bed is empty and untouched, aside from where his side is rucked up from where he was sleeping earlier. When he steps into the room Derek is standing at the end of the bed where Stiles left him, with his phone in his hand and his face is pale and void of emotion.

He’s read it then.

Stiles can’t make his voice work and he might have said Derek’s name, but he’s not sure. His ears are ringing something fierce before Derek’s voice breaks the silence.

“Is it true?” Derek doesn’t look up at him.

Stiles shoulders weigh thousands of pounds. “Derek…” Stiles pleads, not knowing where the best place to start explaining is. You would think after all this time, he would have this planned out to the tee, but alas, Stiles procrastinates procrastinating.

Derek’s eyes flash up, bright and vulnerable, and he asks with a hard tone. “Did we know each other, Stiles?” His brows are low, and foreboding. He’s not asking if Stiles used him, or anything the article accuses him of. No. He’s asking if Stiles actually knew him before.

“Yes - But -” Stiles starts, swinging an arm as he walks closer, ready to spill his guts and beg Derek to understand.

“Get out.”

Stiles freezes, losing his balance slightly. “What? Derek-”

“Go. Now.” Derek says calmly, but his eyes are shut, and he’s turning away from Stiles.

Stiles can’t handle that and rushes toward him weakly. “Derek, please let me explain. I can-”

“No!” Derek shouts turning around and closing the distance between them, his calm evaporating. “Get the fuck away from me!” Derek shoves Stiles’ chest, hard.

Stiles falls backwards against the bed and onto the floor. All he can do is look up at Derek and know that this is all his fault. He should have fucking told him.

This is exactly what he has been so afraid of all along. He knew that Derek would want nothing to do with him, maybe that was why he dragged it out for so long, trying to ignore the problem in hopes it would go away.

Foolish dreams of a foolish man.

Stiles hears LL in his head. ‘ _ Maybe you shouldn’t underestimate your competition.’ _

Kate played a good game. Truth be told, Stiles lost the day he saw Derek and didn’t tell him within an hour of talking to him in that trailer so many months ago.

Stiles deserves Derek’s hatred. 

His anger. 

His pain. 

He deserves all of it.

Derek looms over him, harsh puffs of air forcing their way through his nose. 

Stiles looks at Derek’s clenched fists. “Hit me, Derek.”

Derek flinches, and Stiles sees a brief glimpse of the man he loves. 

“Fucking hit me, Derek. I deserve it, but-” Stiles chokes, doing everything he can not to start crying. “- but not for the reasons you think.” Stiles tries to stand back up to face Derek head on. He needs to get his side of the story out. He had been so close earlier before Allison came and grabbed Derek so they could stop the  _ other _ article. How did she not know about this one? Stiles refuses to even entertain the idea that she might have.

Derek shakes his head, biting his lip. “How can I trust  _ anything  _ you have to say to me when _ everything has been a lie?!”  _ Derek demands through clenched teeth.

Stiles crumbles back down with Derek looming over him, trying to make himself as small and nonthreatening as possible. 

Derek has never yelled at him like this. 

Stiles hasn’t even seen him yell at  _ others  _ like this.

“Derek! Just let me talk! Hit me if it makes you feel better, but please, God, let me explain!” Stiles is crying now, tears not quite falling, but welling up, all the same.  _ Great _ .

The door bangs open and Scott runs in with his trusty spare key that Stiles has made sure he always had since his drug problem from years prior, after Danny told the rest of the band about him on that rooftop in Boston. Everyone was worried he would do something reckless, and they needed to know that they could check on him and be able to get into his room at any hour.

Allison is at Scott’s back. 

Scott doesn’t miss a beat. “Hey, back the fuck off, Derek!” Scott puts himself between Derek and Stiles and shoves Derek away from where he was looming over his best friend. 

Intimidating, Scott is not, in his Robin pajama bottoms and Batman tshirt. 

Stiles had bought a pair or Batman and Robin pajamas for their  _ friendship _ anniversary years ago, and when they couldn’t decide who was who, they split the set. But that is neither here, nor there.

Derek steps forward bumping his chest against Scott, refusing to back down, and this is something Stiles has never seen before. Scott and Derek standing off against each other.

Stiles swallows thickly, because he knows that commonly, when one sees their love interest in Alpha mode, they find it highly attractive, but for once, he can’t find any reason to be turned on right now. Seeing Derek angry, huffing, fists clenched, and unreasonable… Stiles realizes that all he has done is  _ ruin _ Derek. There’s nothing to be attracted to here.

Lydia and Isaac run in next, having heard the commotion. 

Stiles rubs forcefully at his nose, strengthening his resolve not to shed a tear, and tries again to stand up. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. 

Scott shouldn’t be posting up against Derek. 

Scott loves Derek. 

Derek loved Scott.

This isn’t how it was supposed to happen.

Stiles makes it to his feet, ignoring the concerned hands of his friends gripping his elbows like he’s fragile and needs to be coddled. Stiles thinks he’s been coddled too much, honestly. He appreciates his friends more than they know, but he should have dealt with this months ago.

Stiles pulls at Scott’s shoulder, trying to get back in front of Derek to make sure he takes all of Derek’s anger. His friends don’t deserve the backlash, because this is _all_ _his_ fault.

Derek is yelling again, and by what he says Stiles realizes only a few seconds have passed since Scott separated them. 

He feels like everything is dragging on slowly, while his mind whirls past everyone. 

“I need to back off? What about him? I want him as far away from me as possible.” Derek points behind Scott to where Stiles is standing. 

Scott knocks Derek’s hand away. “Have you even  _ listened  _ to what he has to say? You don’t even know what happened!”

Stiles chokes out, just wanting - he doesn’t even know what he wants, but it’s not this. “Derek…”

Derek turns his head quickly, fire in his eyes. “You  _ ruined _ my life.”

Stiles falls a step back with the impact of Derek’s words. Now, he’s grateful for Isaac and Lydia’s hands that were holding him, or he would have fallen again.

Boyd, Erica, and Jackson come running in next. 

Jackson throws the first accusation and shoves himself between Derek and Scott, much like Scott had done earlier. “Better watch yourself, McCall, unless your want to meet my fists”

“I hardly know you!” Scott gapes. “This has nothing to do with you, move.” Scott tries to brush him aside, set on defending his best friends’ honor, and Stiles loves him even more for that, and hates him all at the same time.

This is Stiles’ fight, not anyone else’s.

Boyd pulls Derek back and they start talking across the room, but Stiles can’t hear what they say because Erica has taken the distractions as an opportunity to make her way between Scott and Stiles and -

Punches Stiles right in the nose. Stiles is pretty sure it’s broken. Holy, God! Stiles grabs his face. 

“I deserve that.” He admits, actually feeling better, his physical pain balancing out his emotional anguish. Guilt floods in quickly, because he doesn’t deserve any sort of reprieve. Dark red blood stains his hands, and his shirt.

“Damn right, you do!” Erica growls. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” She starts shoving Stiles, and grips his shoulders before lifting a knee and kneeing him right in the balls. 

The sound that leaves Stiles is not human, as he falls  _ back  _ to the ground.

Stiles briefly humors the fact that he might need to start paying rent with how often he visits the floor.

She continues yelling over him, and Stiles thinks he can hear Lydia and Isaac shouting back at her, but all he can hear is Erica, because he can’t disagree with anything she’s saying.

“What gives you any right to make Derek fall in love with you, when you ruined his life? What gives you the right to keep  _ Derek’s own fucking past _ from him?!” She bends over and pulls him up by the collar of his shirt. “I never trusted you. I knew you were going to break Derek’s heart. You are a cockroach, and I hope you will burn in hell for this.” 

When she drops him, Stiles head hits the floor, and again, all he can feel is relief. He needs physical pain, he briefly considers saying something snappy. He has no idea what he would say, but it would be witty, and it would be crass, and Erica would  _ definitely  _ kick his ass into the next century.

He doesn’t get to come up with any pain yielding zingers because he suddenly sees Lydia flying through the air over him as she tackles Erica to the floor.

“Lydia!” Stiles shouts. He gets to his feet and everyone is standing around, eyes on the two powerful women duking it out on the floor. Stiles pulls Lydia off. “Lyds, please.” Stiles begs as she fights him. Stiles puts his face right in the crook of her neck from behind as he drags her away, blood sticking to her hair. “Lyds, please. Please stop. Please.” Stiles clenches his eyes closed, unable to look on at the mess he’s made single handedly.

After a few seconds her legs stop kicking, and her arms settle onto Stiles’ around her stomach and she nods.

Stiles doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s still glaring at Erica who’s standing up and is also being held back by Boyd, but in a much different way. Boyd has one hand on her shoulder, a small action to silently ask her to stop. He knows better than to tell her what to do.

Allison steps further into the circle of adversaries, with a hand pressed against Scott’s sternum behind her.

Stiles looks around and realizes what has unfolded among them all in such a short amount of time. 

Jackson’s shirt is ripped, and Scott’s lip is busted. Jackson still looking toward him threateningly, and Scott watching Allison, knowing better than to disobey her.

Boyd still has a hand on Erica's shoulder holding her back, animated steam billowing out of her ears. 

Isaac is walking slowly back toward the group with a lamp in his hand, eyes sharp, ready for someone to lash out again. 

Stiles isn’t sure if Isaac was removing it from the immediate area of the fight so no one broke it and got hurt, or if he had picked it up to bash over someone’s head himself. Both equally possible with the past Isaac’s had.

Then there’s Stiles holding a seething Lydia back.

And then there’s  _ Derek _ .

Derek is standing at the farthest side of the room from Stiles, halfway between Boyd and Jackson, and his eyes are locked on Stiles, trying to read him. 

Stiles mourns the days where Derek could read him across long distances, how he could read between every twitch of his lips, sighs, or unspoken promises. Derek always  _ knew _ exactly what was going on in Stiles’ head. 

Even over the past eight months, Derek had almost learned him all over again, but now Derek didn’t know what to believe.

Allison tentatively speaks up. “Let’s all take a breath, relax, and talk about this.” She holds out a placating hand to the group, her other still resting against Scott behind her.

Derek’s eyes bulge as he takes in the group around him. “You  _ all knew?” _

“Derek-” Almost all of them respond, feeling everything like kicked puppies.

“No. You all knew, and you just let me play into his fucking game again, you all lied to me. Leave.” Derek points at the door. “Get out.”

“Please.” Stiles begs again, letting go of Lydia and trying to get to Derek. “I have been trying to tell you-”

“What, Stiles?” Derek asks, anger bleeding out of him. “That you fucked me back in the day, that you didn’t mean for me to get hurt, that you’ve fucking lied to me for almost a year?”

“Derek, it’s not like that-” Stiles sniffs, determined to get his story out. “Yes, I knew you, and I never wanted you to get hurt, but what we had was real.”

“I don’t want to hear it! The least you can do is leave me the fuck alone! You owe me that much!” Derek shouts arms to the side, and Stiles caves in on himself. Maybe Derek just needs some time, and then when everyone has calmed down, then they can talk. 

That’s it.

They just need to breathe. 

“You’re right.” Stiles concedes, stepping back away. “Come on, guys. Let’s give him some space.”

Thankfully, no one argues, and Scott wraps his arm around Stiles’ shoulder and leads them out the door. 

Faintly, Stiles hears Derek call out behind him, but it’s for Allison.

“I want my own hotel rooms for the rest of the tour.”

When Allison comes up on the other side of Stiles as they make their way back to a room, Stiles speaks up. It’s barely a whisper, the energy draining out of him with each step away from Derek, his mind and body shutting down. “I think it’s time we finally rent them their own bus. I don’t want him to feel like he has to be around us if he doesn’t want to be.” 

Allison nods, and Isaac opens his hotel door where they take Stiles to the bed, which Stiles happily falls onto. He just barely turns his face in time not to land on his damaged nose

He vaguely hears the conversations around him, but the words don’t fit together. They’re just words. He knows that the words form sentences, but their meanings evade him.

“Allison,” Lydia starts calmly, but with a hard edge to her voice. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but there is something fundamentally wrong with your family.”

“I know.”

Isaac comes in next. “Something isn’t right. That statement, the article… it wasn’t…”

“No.” Allison confirms. “It’s not official. It can’t be.” She takes a breath. “Statements take days of preparation, and research, and signatures… and I would have been primarily involved in the process because I am acting manager on the road for them, and their only connection to the label.”

“So you think Kate put this out on her own?” Scott asks.

Allison sighs, and Stiles hears the chime of her phone being unlocked. “I’m not sure, but I intend to find out.”

She makes a call, that Stiles understands is to set up a ride to the airport, and then a flight out as soon as possible. Scott keeps saying ‘Two.’ but never continues counting, so Stiles gives up on understanding his best friend. 

“Stiles?” Allison whispers closer to him, and he grunts in acknowledgement. “I’m going to try and fix this, I’m sorry I have to leave, but I will be back as soon as I can, okay?”

Stiles grunts, not sure what he should say because he doesn’t understand the english language anymore. It’s just sounds.

The only words he can hear in his head are-

_ Derek. Over. Ruined. Stupid.  _

Isaac and Lydia curl up next to him, as Allison and Scott close the door behind them.

Stiles would have thought that after something like this, he would cry himself to sleep. But his face is dry, aside from the quickly drying blood from his nose (which he vaguely knows he should have checked out), and his pulse is steady as he dozes off into slumber.

Stiles feels his lips twitch into a sickening smile when an old quote flashes through his mind.

> _ Sleep: The closest thing to death, but without the commitment. _

* * *

 

Stiles wakes up to someone poking at his face, and good God, does that smart.

There’s a man standing over the edge of the bed, and after a closer assessment, Stiles realizes it’s a paramedic. 

Stiles sits up slowly, reacquainting himself with gravity, to allow them better access to his face. He feels he doesn’t deserve to be taken care of though. He deserves the pain. He deserves an infection. He deserves a permanent scar.

Stiles closes his eyes and sees himself older, his nose healed at an odd angle, much like Owen Wilson. That’s what Stiles deserves. Something that reminds him, and everyone else what he is capable of. His scarlet letter.

He’d fight the paramedic, if he had the energy or thought he could get away with it, but Isaac and Lydia are still in the room with him, and would sooner strap him down than allow him a permanent scar. 

There’s a knock at the door and Stiles turns his head, which sends a spark of pain throughout his body when he tugs against the hand that is trying to realign his nose, when he hears the low tone of Boyd’s voice. 

“His bags.” Boyd explains the reason for his visit, which Stiles expects to be as short lived as possible.

“Thank you.” Isaac says stiffly and Stiles sees his bags come through the door to be set on the floor behind Isaac.

“Can I come in?” Boyd asks.

Isaac looks back to Lydia who has come to stand beside him, and then they both look at Stiles.

Stiles shrugs, what does it matter? 

Boyd comes in slowly, and Isaac keeps himself between Boyd and Stiles, which is laughable because Boyd could sit on Isaac and the fight would be over.

Boyd stands still a moment, his arms coming up to lightly cross over his chest as he assesses the mess that sits before him. 

“You’re girlfriend packs quite the punch.” Stiles tries to joke, doing his best to ease the tension in the room. 

The corner of Boyd’s mouth upticks slightly, his eyes casting down for a moment, before he speaks. “She does, but she shouldn’t have hit you.” 

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Let’s not pretend I don’t deserve it.” Stiles wants to say more. Like how technically, she shouldn’t have hit him because it had nothing to do with her, but she is one of Derek’s friends and Stiles knows that had he been given the chance he would have decked Parrish for Isaac. So he understands her motives. And how he wanted Derek to hit him, knew he deserved it. Needed it. 

“Is it broken?” Boyd asks.

“Yup.” Stiles pops the ‘p’, an un-amused huff slipping out of his nose. “So if you came to get a hit in for yourself, you’ll have to select another part of my anatomy.” The joke falls and Stiles shrugs. 

Isaac speaks up. “Why are you here?” 

Body clears his throat. “I just wanted - I don’t -” He huffs, and this is the first time Stiles has ever seen Boyd anything but eloquent. “The label’s statement, it wasn’t… official. I don’t know how to explain, but it wasn’t. It couldn’t have been.”

Stiles blinks at Boyd, because  _ what _ ?

“I’ve written many articles, and official statements, and that…  _ wasn’t one _ .”

Stiles swallows. “You picked up on that, huh?” Stiles hasn’t thought much on the validity of the article, because all that matters is that there was enough truth to hurt his and Derek’s relationship, and the fact that Stiles should have come clean long ago. 

Derek shouldn’t have found out this way.

“Yes.” Boyd confirms, and his arms flex as he tightens his hold over his chest. “I’m not saying I don’t believe there to be truth to the article, but I wanted you guys to know that I am not on board with what they want us to believe.” Boyd tilts his head down toward Stiles from across the room. 

Isaac keeps his eyes on Boyd.

“What really happened?” Boyd asks slowly.

Stiles sits and thinks for a minute, his mind reeling. “I-” Stiles tries to start. “Boyd, thank you - for asking, and I don’t know, being awesome - but… I really need to talk to Derek and tell him everything first before I tell anyone else. I owe him that much.”

Boyd nods, and Stiles almost believes he sees relief in Boyd’s eyes. 

Why would Boyd be relieved? What? “Was that a test?” Stiles asks.

Boyd smiles, shrugging his shoulders. “I still meant what I said, I don’t trust the article. Doesn’t mean I’m on your side, because I don’t know the truth, but I’m not your enemy.” He smirks as he turns to walk back toward the door. “Yet.”

“Good talk.” Isaac jokes, humor failing.

When Boyd opens the door, Stiles hears Erica. “Where the fuck is he?”

“Let her in.” Stiles calls, his head still while he gets stitches, but his eyes strain to watch for Erica to come in and exact Derek’s pound of flesh.

Erica comes around the corner, eyes blazing.

“Already gunning for round two, I see.” Stiles deadpans, actually not wanting to feel more pain right now. He’s pretty numb emotionally, aside from the splinters of pain sparking across his face.

“I’m not here for you.” She says, and Stiles jerks his head, ripping one of the stitches out that the paramedic is trying hard to finish. 

“Look,” Stiles gestures at his friends as the paramedic covers the new tear in his flesh with gauze. “They didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me you want to hurt.”

“God!” She cries, “Not everything is about you.”

Stiles gawks at her, not because he’s offended, but because he doesn’t understand what she is doing here.

“Where’s Derek?” She asks.

Isaac looks between all of them. “We left him with you guys, and came straight here. We haven’t left the room or talked to him.”

Stiles sighs, “Have you checked the roof? Or the garage?” Stiles knows that after everything Derek has dealt with in the last 24 hours, what with their fight the night before, his fight with Peter, the Parish thing, the threat of outing his injury to the media, and then the article that turned his life upside down. Derek has probably found himself a hiding place so he can sit in peace, and smoke his way through a pack or two. And to think, both Derek and Stiles had almost stopped smoking altogether this past month. Stupid.

Stiles can’t say he blames him.

“Yes.” She says, like it’s the dumbest thing he’s ever said. “I’m not stupid.”

“Okay.” Stiles says. “Then I assume you tried calling him, or texting him.”

She pulls something from her pocket and Stiles recognizes it as Derek’s phone. “The last thing on here is a call  _ to _ Kate.” 

Stiles blinks, thoughts failing him.

“Now, I don’t trust you…” Erica starts, voice calmer, but going lower in pitch as she continues. “But I  _ really _ don’t trust Kate. Derek told me about-” She makes a wiping motion with her hand. “If he’s gone to meet her… we  _ have to find him.” _

“How long has it been?” Stiles asks, trying to run through where all Derek could be. Is Kate even in town? “Since the article came out, how long has it been?”

“Just over an hour.” Lydia says checking her phone. “Erica, when was the call made?”

Erica looks down at the call log. “Thirty-two minutes ago.”

* * *

 

Derek hails a Taxi from the curb outside the hotel. He has to apologize to Kate, he called her as soon as he had a second to really process the article. He doesn’t even know where to begin to try and make sense of all of this, but Kate seems like a good place to start. 

They were  _ engaged _ and Derek  _ had an affair _ . He fights the need to empty his stomach right there on the curb. What did Stiles do to make him do such an awful and unforgivable thing? 

When he woke up in the hospital and Kate accused him of cheating, he never believed it to be true. Now, it’s been confirmed, and he can’t deny it anymore.

He’s a cheater.

Now wonder Kate was so angry with him.

How could he be so stupid to fall for it then  _ and  _ now? What is it about Stiles that makes Derek do stupid things and ignore his better judgement. He should have known something was off from the minute Stiles freaked out at the mention of Kate’s name back in the trailer on the first night Derek met him. Or, more accurately, ran into him  _ again _ .

The taxi pulls up to a cheap motel on the outskirts of town where Kate told him she was staying to avoid the resulting stares, and condolences after the article bared her secret to the world. 

As he closes the distance between himself and the door after asking the taxi to keep the meter running, his stomach rolls into more knots. He knows he needs to apologize for hurting her, but why didn’t she tell him? Why didn’t Stiles? Why didn’t anyone else?

Derek really felt he could trust Stiles with anything from the second he stepped foot into his trailer before he signed the contract. Was it really just lust all this time? Did something deep within him recognize Stiles? If he did, on some level, remember Stiles, why didn’t his gut scream at him to tuck tail and run? Derek doesn’t know what to trust anymore; not Stiles, not his friends, not his parents, not Kate, and not even himself.

He knocks on the door Kate specified over the phone and it’s only a moment before Kate cracks the door to verify who it is. When she sees it’s Derek, she closes it to unhinge the chain and open the door for him to enter.

She turns away while Derek walks in, and sits down on the bed. She crosses her legs, and tucks her elbows into the folds of her knees, then rests her forehead in her hands.

“Thank you for seeing me.” Derek says, lamely, not knowing where to start. Not even knowing where his head's at. It’s all very scattered right now.

She nods, but doesn’t look up at him. “I didn’t know about the article, Derek. You have to believe me. I would  _ never  _ allow that. Not only for myself, but that was the worst way you could have found out.”

Derek sits down in front of her, but allows her a few feet of space. If the roles were reversed, he can’t imagine he would want her anywhere near him. “Why didn’t you tell me, then?” He pauses, “After all this time.”

“We were trying to protect you.” Kate whispers, finally looking up. “We didn’t want you hurt, and what did it matter? We never thought you would see Stiles again.”

“We?” Derek asks. “Okay, I can accept that, sort of, but why didn’t you tell me after I signed a fucking contract with him?”

She clears her throat. “Your mom, and my brother.” She shakes her head, “We never thought you guys would get serious. Stiles… Stiles doesn’t do long term. We thought it would be a fling, that Stiles would have enough sense not to take advantage of you again...and he told me that if I tried to deter you from him, he would make sure he hurt me worse this time…”

That’s when Derek sees the black streaks leading down from her eyes, and dark tissues cluttering the bed. “Kate, I am so sorry.” Sure, this is hard on him, but this is ripping an ugly wound open for Kate that she never should of had to live through the first time.

“I don’t want you to apologize, Derek.” She says through a sniff, before looking down at her fingers in her lap. “If I had been around more, Stiles would have never seduced you, and none of this would have happened. It’s my fault, really. I’m sorry you had to find out the way that you did.”

Derek nods. “I don’t have any clue what happened. No one has told me. Will you… can you please…” Derek asks slowly, knowing how hard it would be for her to recount his discretions.

She nods, steeling herself before starting. “You were on tour with us, it was my first time going on tour with an artist and you and I were afraid of being apart for so long, so you came with me, we were planning our wedding.” She smiles lost in thought.

Derek swallows, he doesn’t remember ever proposing, or even being in a position to want to propose. Last he remembers they were still working through a lot of issues. Derek ponders the fact that maybe since she had finally achieved her goals, maybe the strain on their relationship had lifted enough for him to see a future with her. A happy one. Like his parents had.

“Don’t worry though,” She rolls her eyes, as she rubs an eyelash out of her eye. “You didn’t drop out of school, you were still taking your courses online, and were working on another MA.”

Derek nods at that, glad that he didn’t drop his future to follow hers, that was actually a very common fight as far as he can remember, and he wishes he could remember the change. 

“Then I got more and more busy and wasn’t around but a couple times a week. You stayed with the band, and I thought you were okay, you really seemed to like them.” She smiles weakly, her eyes drifting, as though remembering. “At some point, I don’t know when, Stiles -” She huffs. “Stiles’ contract restricted him from coming out, and I think him… pursuing you.. Was a way to stick it to the man, specifically me.”

“Stiles wouldn’t...” Derek starts to say, instinct telling him that Stiles wouldn’t do something like that. Stiles wouldn’t use someone like that, Derek can’t believe the nasty things Kate is saying, but she is the first person to be honest with him. Derek blinks in confusion when the words come out of his mouth. He’s still blindly trusting Stiles.

Kate flips blazing eyes on him. “You find out that he used you to get to me, and to get his dick wet while he was on the road, and you are  _ defending him?! _ ”

“No!” Derek says quickly. “It’s confusing, but I’m not defending him.”

She takes a breath, and scoots closer to him. “I’m sorry. He’s - I - Stiles is  _ not  _ my favorite person.”

“Then why do you still hold their contract? I mean, I know they have been trying to have the contract transferred to Allison, but why did you keep it all this time?” Derek asks honestly. He’s decided to just respond to the current conversation and not get lost in all the twisting thoughts swirling around in his skull.

Derek sees something flash in her eyes before she drops them, and clears her throat. “I just didn’t want to admit defeat. He hurt me, yes, but I still had some power over him. Maybe I’m just as bad as him.”

“No, you’re not. You were hurt.” Derek says. “But it wasn’t just his life you were making difficult, the others didn’t deserve the harsh overhead too.”

“Why are you defending them?!” She yells, but smiling all the same, as though his ignorance is amusing to her. “They are monsters! They all knew what he was doing, and didn’t tell me, or try to stop him, or even  _ you!” _ She takes a breath, and calms herself. “They are not innocent, Derek, and the sooner you realize that, the sooner we can move on.”

“Move on?” Derek asks. He hasn’t thought about  _ moving on _ yet, should he be?

She blinks at him before softening her expression and scooting even closer, her knee bumping into him. “We can finally move on from all this, and get our lives back on track.” Her eyes trace over his cheek bone, and Derek swallows.

“Kate.” 

She leans in, lips ghosting over his. 

“I-” Derek tries, his brain short circuiting.

She closes the distance and forces a fierce kiss out of him.

After Derek registers what is happening he pushes her away sharply. “No, Kate…”

“What?” She coughs, wiping her mouth.

Derek stands. “I’m sorry, if… if I said something to make you think I wanted to get back together.”

She stands too, her timid posture gone, and in it’s place is tight muscles. “What do you mean, Derek? You read the article, we were engaged. You loved me, you still do!”

“No…” Derek flinches, this has to be destroying her, but he has no desire to get back together with her. “I’m sorry, Kate, but everything else is still the same as when I started the tour. I don’t want to get back together, we were awful for each other. I’m sorry for what I have done to you, but we  _ can’t be together. _ ”

“What are you- Der…”

Derek looks over to her phone which has been blinking since he got there. “You should probably check your phone. It’s been going off for awhile. Thank you for seeing me.” Derek says as he backs toward the door to leave. “Again, I’m really sorry.”

* * *

 

When Derek gets back to the hotel he takes the stairs up to his room, his mind numb, his limbs sagging, everything quiet. He ponders the idea that maybe his mind and body is holding up a defense against the tsunami of shit he has to try and rebuild after. 

Derek actually smiles at the thought. His brain may have been damaged, but it still has some sort of self preservation working up there.

He’s walking past Isaac’s room when he hears raised voices coming from inside. He slides along the wall to listen closer, and finds the door held open by Boyd. Derek flattens himself against the wall to listen before he decides if he wants to make his presence known.

“Let us talk to Derek, Kate. I’m not fucking around.” Stiles growls. 

Derek assumes he must be on the phone, and maybe he was the reason her phone was blowing up off the hook. Derek feels a flash of anger flare inside him, how dare he think he has any right to demand to talk to him, or even call Kate in the first place.

“You’re lying. I know Derek.” Stiles snaps back. “He didn’t love you then, and he doesn’t love you now. The only person you’re fooling is yourself.”

Lydia snaps next. “Give me the phone.”

The next thing Derek hears is Kate’s voice. “You may be right Stiles, but we both know that Derek will never love _you_ _again.”_

“That’s enough!” Allison speaks up, and takes Kate off speaker phone. “Kate, Dad is looking for you, and so is an entire army of lawyers. What you did was not supported, nor authorized by the label. As of an hour ago you have been relieved of all your contracts. You have no reason to contact my clients again. Now, have a good day.”

Derek sees red, how could the label do that to Kate? All she has ever wanted was to run the company one day, and she worked her way up from the ground. She’s hurt, they have to understand that. There’s no reason she should be terminated.

Derek makes himself known by shoving past Boyd and into the room. His fists clench at his sides. He doesn’t want to be here, but he can’t let Kate get hurt again, not if he can do something about it.

“Derek...” Stiles sighs, “You’re back. We thought you were still with Kate.”

Derek snaps his eyes toward Stiles, and the relief Stiles felt is short lived as Derek snaps at him. “Don’t you dare talk to me.”

Stiles swallows, but nods his head before stepping away to sit in a chair to the side of the room.

Derek turns to Allison. “Kate doesn’t deserve backlash from the label because of something I did to her.” Derek states as calmly, and forcefully as possible. He has far too many emotions plaguing him, and the image of Stiles blotchy, bruised face, is burned into the back of his eyelids.

“Derek.” Allison says calmly. “We have a lot to talk about.”

Derek is about to tell her just how ‘not on board’ he is with that idea, but he’s interrupted as his uncle comes through the door. 

“Well, today has been rather eventful, don’t you think? I didn’t even make it on the plane after our all night meeting, and I was immediately called back for more. Argent Records is going to need to put me on the payroll soon, if things keep going as they are.” Peter smiles at the room of people, like they all didn’t personally ruin Derek’s life, then walks up to Allison and shakes her hand. “Derek? How are you holding up?” 

Derek doesn’t answer, not sure who’s side his uncle is on.

Finstock comes in next. “Alright asshats, out!” 

Derek’s eyebrows pinch together.

Finstock physically grabs Isaac and Scott by the ears and drags them into the hall. “Everyone but Derek, Allison, Peter, and Stiles - in the hall!”

Scott complains loudly from the hallway.

Finstock twists his face in annoyance. “Adjust your jock strap. They’ll be fine.” 

Derek looks at the four Finstock specified to stay.

“This is my room!” Isaac whines. 

“Lahey, I will personally give you a lobotomy.” Finstock snaps over his shoulder.

There’s a groan of defeat, before Finstock turns to Derek’s friends.

Derek looks to Peter, who technically will be the only one on his side when the others leave, and that doesn’t exactly comfort him. “Let Boyd stay.” Derek says. He needs someone to have his back.

Finstock nods agreement, and Boyd steps back in the room to stand off to the side with his arms crossed.

Lydia comes back in next. If he’s staying, so am I.

Finstock runs a hand down his face. “Fine.” He then walks out the door and closes it behind him.

Derek is left standing in the center of the room with Peter and Allison in front of him discussing something quietly, have been for some time it seems, but Derek wasn’t paying attention. 

Allison looks like she hasn’t sleep, which is to be expected because the three of them haven’t. Not with the threat of someone outing his injury, and then the labels’ article right after…

Peter looks like the lack of sleep hasn’t quite caught up with him yet, but the bags under his eyes tell enough.

Derek turns his head and Stiles is still sitting in the chair he sat in earlier, with his legs tucked under him, and his head in his hands.

Lydia is sitting on the armrest, running a hand up and down his back and squeezing where his shoulders meet his neck.

And then there’s Boyd who has taken up guarding the door, or making sure Derek has an easy exit if he decides to run, both equally appreciated.

Peter walks toward the table at the side of the room and opens his briefcase and starts laying out all kinds of documents and folders. “Derek, please sit. We have much to discuss.”

Derek nods and takes a seat where he can still see Stiles and Lydia across the room. He may not want to see him, but he’s not ready to turn his back to him.

Allison sits next to them and pulls out her files as well, then places Derek’s phone in front of him. “You left this.”

“First thing’s first.” Peter says tapping a stack of papers on their edge. “Derek. Sign these.”

Derek takes the stack held out to him, and reads the top. “Restraining order?” Derek looks up to Stiles. “I don’t want…” Derek doesn’t know how to phrase what he’s feeling. He doesn’t know why, but getting a restraining order against Stiles feels  _ wrong _ .

Peter makes a questioning sound, then clicks his tongue. “Don’t worry, it’s not for Stiles. It’s for Kate.”

“Kate?” Derek chokes thrown for a new loop, and no, his voice does not keep going up in pitch with each question.

“Yes…” Peter draws out, his eyebrows raising. “Derek, she’s…” Peter blinks between Stiles and Derek, finally taking in the situation. “Wait. What’s going on? Stiles, why are you purple? Derek, why are you not kissing his boo-boos and ouchies?” 

“What?” Derek asks, flipping between every face in the room. “Because he fucking ruined my life. Now, why do you want me to sign a restraining order against Kate?” Derek asks, tossing the papers back at his uncle. “Start talking.”

Peter laughs. “Well, this was never how I thought this day was going to go.”

Derek squints at him, he knew this day was coming? Did Peter know about his and Stiles past? Why did nobody tell him?! Then Derek catches Peter cast a glance at Stiles and something clicks. “Wow.” Derek smiles, scratching his stubble. “This is incredible.”

“What is?” Allison asks.

Derek looks at his uncle before pointing to Stiles. “He must be one hell of a lay for you to pick him over your own nephew.”

“Watch your mouth.” Lydia warns from across the room, who up to this point has remained silent. 

Derek narrows his eyes at her, and she does the same back.

“You are not allowed to say hateful things until you hear him out, do you understand me, Derek Hale?” Lydia threatens.

Stiles looks up, his throat working over time, and no, Derek is not staring at the stretch of his neck. “Lydia, it’s okay.”

“No!” She cuts. “It’s not. You may think you deserve to be treated like trash, but myself and all of our friends know better. The least he can do is hear you out before he starts casting judgement.” She finishes with a stern look toward Derek.

Derek rolls his eyes, but looks back at his uncle. “Why do I need to sign a restraining order against Kate?”

“It’s part of a much bigger picture, which Allison will explain to you in a moment, but take my word for it, and sign, just to get it out of the way. If you change your mind we can always tear up the document and burn it.” Peter says handing the papers back.

Derek concedes and signs all the dotted lines after looking to Boyd who gives him a nod to go ahead.

“Okay.” Allison starts, turning her body toward Derek. “The article that was released this morning was written by Kate and published through the label’s channels without the proper steps taken. What she published is not in any way how our statements look, the first flag was set off when we saw how poorly written it was. Honestly,” Allison shakes her head of the thought. “Derek, after we started looking into the IP address the article was released from, we found it was the same IP that was threatening to out your accident that we spent all night trying to shut down.”

Derek blinks, not wanting to come to the obvious conclusion. The first thing Kate had said when he went to see her was that she had nothing to do with the article, and knew nothing of it. But this… what Allison is telling him… 

Derek has no idea who to trust anymore.

“We got Danny to come in and work his magic, and he found that the IP address belonged to Kate. I won’t pretend to understand how Danny does what he does, but Kate threatened to out your story so that you would give the label the authorization to release the information, so that she could release her own.”

Derek feels like he’s been punched in the gut. Everyone has been lying to him, and the person he was ready to defend, because he thought they were the victim, manipulated him. How far had she manipulated him? What if he had wanted to get back together with her? How long could it have gone on?

Derek clears his throat, “So the article was false? No one has told me it was all false.” Derek looks at Stiles, briefly hoping that Stiles will tell him that it was all a lie. That what they had was genuine and not at all a manipulation in any way. Derek needs to be able to trust  _ someone _ . 

Stiles doesn’t provide any relief by telling him the article was a complete fabrication by licking his lips and looking down.

Peter speaks next. “There were false accusations in there, but it is based in truth. Stiles, would you mind telling Derek your side?”

Derek looks back at Stiles.

“I’d rather wait until after all of the legal stuff is taken care of, but Derek please believe me when I tell you that I  _ did not mean to hurt you. _ ” Stiles licks his lower lip. “I’ve already told you all about how much I cared for you back then, I just never told you I was talking about  _ you. _ ” Stiles says slowly, his golden eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I can’t trust anything you say.” Derek says looking away.

Peter takes a deep breath. “That’s perfectly understandable, but he is telling the truth. The Truth of the article Kate released is as follows.” Peter starts counting out on his fingers. “You did have an accident, and it caused you brain damage.”

Derek rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You did cheat on Kate with Stiles, but you were never engaged to her.”

Stiles growls across the room. “That is such horse shit. Derek wasn’t even considering marriage. She made you miserable, Derek! She never cared about you!”

“Stop talking.” Derek growls back. 

Peter reaches across the table. “Derek, you are going to let Stiles explain, no one expects you to jump into bed with him after, but we all believe you won’t be so  _ hostile _ after.”

Derek rolls his eyes. 

“Stiles loves you, always has. He may have a shit way of showing it, but he does. And Derek, as much as you don’t want to believe it, you loved him too. As for your future, that is up to you. But Stiles didn’t crash that car, Stiles didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do. Stiles is not the bad guy.” Peter says slowly.

Derek stops talking, sick of being told how he felt, or feels. He  _ feels  _ like he’s back in that God forsaken hospital bed being told how happ-

Derek looks back at Stiles. 

His family kept trying to tell him how happy he was before the accident. They tried to tell him it wasn’t because of Kate…

“Okay.” Derek says, turning back to the two at the table. “Let's get this legal stuff out of the way and then I will hear Stiles out.”

The next hour is spent with Chris on Skype and loads of paperwork, that Derek barely pays attention to, because honestly, what more can they do to him?

Boyd comes to the table when they start talking about the band, and Derek gladly sits back to stare out the balcony window while Boyd handles the adult stuff.

Derek has checked out of that department. Adulting. He’s over it. He closes his eyes and dreams of juice boxes and swizzlers on a sunny day surrounded by screaming kids at Beacon Hills Park. 

Stiles makes himself busy by walking around and cleaning up the room. Stiles is picking up his bags that must have been brought to him at one point, or hell maybe Stiles went and got it himself, Derek wouldn’t know because he hasn’t been in his room since the fight. 

He looks at Stiles blooming face, and can only imagine how the light purples are going to deepen and change over the next week. Erica really could pack a punch. 

Something deep down is longing to cup Stiles’ face in his hands and kiss each swollen spot of flesh, but Derek can’t tell if it’s just because four hours ago he was head over heals for Stiles, or if there is any truth to the stories he’s being told.

Stiles pulls the six pack of beer out of his bag and loads it into the mini fridge, then reaches in to pull out the vodka that he always carried for Derek. Stiles starts to put it away, but then looks over toward Derek’s feet.

Derek scolds himself for wishing that Stiles would meet his eyes.

Stiles bends down and grabs the orange juice, before righting himself and pulling a small foam cup from the counter. 

Derek watches as Stiles mixes the drink without really focussing on it as he loads up a towel with ice to press to his face with a hiss. Derek was always impressed with how Stiles knew the perfect vodka to orange juice ratio, but to see him do it now… after knowing that Stiles… was it all just a clever ruse to make Derek fall for him? Because he knew what Derek liked?

Stiles walks over finally and hesitates when he gets close to Derek, and their eyes meet. “I’m sorry. I thought-” Stiles takes a step back. “I can dump it out.”

Derek barely shakes his head, and Stiles sets the cup down before walking back to his chair. Derek doesn’t drink it, and watches the ice melt away.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter title comes from "Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year" by Fall Out Boy - very relevant, definitely recommend going and listening to it.
> 
> :3 Please don't hate me...
> 
> All this time, so many of you have been commenting about how badly you all wanted Stiles to tell Derek, or for Derek to remember, and then for them to live happily ever after... and this whole time I've been cringing because that was never in the cards...
> 
> There were a few of you that told me straight out that Derek should end things with Stiles when he finds out, because Stiles was being a little bitch etc. And I agreed (mostly, in a round about way) and never had any intention of acting like Stiles' avoidance wasn't a big deal. Anywho! Even with all the drama, I hope you all enjoyed the update :3
> 
> Luh ya, cuties :)
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [Here](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Here!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	22. The person you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to talk.
> 
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

“Beautiful.” Peter declares when Boyd and Derek sign the last paper Allison has laid before them. “Now that all the technicalities are tied up, I think it’s time you and lover boy have a heart to heart.” Peter winks at the two of them and Derek feels his frown deepen.

Allison collects all her papers while she speaks. “We can schedule another time to sit down with Erica and Jackson to go over these and get their signatures as well.”

Derek hasn’t looked at Stiles since he decided to drink the watered down screwdriver to ease his nerves. Sure, he could walk out and not listen to what Stiles has to say, he’s been doing that for weeks actually. Derek isn’t oblivious, he knows that Stiles has been trying to  _ finally  _ tell him for the last week or so, but that doesn’t change the fact that Stiles took months to even make the choice to tell him.

The fact that Stiles has taken so long to even consider telling Derek any version of the truth, makes it even harder for Derek to believe him. Because he  _ has _ been believing every word Stiles has uttered for so long, that now he feels he would have to be brain dead to blindly believe anything Stiles has to say ever again.

Allison and Peter make their way toward the door with their things, and Allison turns back to the small group. “Peter and I are going to excuse ourselves unless either of you prefer we stay.” She looks to Stiles.

Stiles shakes his head, and Derek does the same. He agrees, he’d rather be surrounded by less people for this.

Derek turns to Boyd next to him. “Should I do this alone?” 

Boyd hums for a moment, “I think that since you feel the need to ask, that you probably shouldn’t -  not that you aren’t able. But I can stay quiet, and objective, and at least then if you need to talk about it later you will have someone who knows just as much as you do to discuss it with.”

Derek nods, comforted by the idea. 

Boyd tips his head, “But if at any point you do want me to leave just tell me. This is your life, and I am just here to support you.” Boyd squeezes his shoulder and Derek mentally thanks whatever deity gave him his new friends who have only ever wanted what’s best for him.

Stiles looks up at Lydia who is still sitting on the arm of his chair. “Lydia, you know I love you, and I can never thank you for how kick ass of a friend you are, but I need to do this by myself.”

She clenches her jaw, but after a beat she leans down to kiss him on the top of his head. “Everything is going to be okay. One way or another. I will be right outside if you need me.” She whispers, before she looks to Boyd. “You don’t plan on punching this man child, do you?” 

Boyd smirks, but shakes his head. He may look big and threatening, but Derek has never even seen him swat a fly.

Lydia gets up, looking as powerful as ever even in cotton pajamas, and bare feet, to leave.

Derek speaks up before she reaches the door. “What? You aren’t going to ask me too?” He doesn’t really know why he said anything. Technically, he lost Lydia, Isaac, Scott, and Allison as friends too, because they all knew. Derek decides that he must have addressed Lydia simply because he is stalling.

She turns, gives him a thoughtful look, then purses her lips. “No. You won’t hurt him. Not physically.”

Derek doesn’t ask what she means, and she leaves.

The room falls into silence once they are left with only the three of them. Stiles is still seated in his chair, and Boyd and Derek remain at the table a few feet away from him. 

Derek sighs, stands, and turns his chair to face Stiles before he sits back down and crosses his arms over his chest. 

Stiles looks up at him, his eyes tilted down at the corners, and his lips tense while he assesses Derek’s mood. “Wow, okay. So this is finally happening.”

Derek remains silent, not wanting to give Stiles anything to go off of. Derek’s not okay. He’s not on his way to forgiving Stiles, or even sure if he wants to. 

Stiles clears his throat. “Okay, uhmm.” Stiles rubs his palms against his knees. “Where do you want me to start?”

“As hard as it may be for you, let’s try the  _ truth _ .” Derek rolls his eyes, his head twisting with the movement. 

“I deserve that.” Stiles nods, biting his top lip. “Okay. I am going to try and get this out as quickly, and simply as possible. Like ripping off a bandaid.”

Derek tries not to stare at the dark circles under Stiles’ eyes from where his broken nose has bloomed. He knows he should feel bad that Erica broke his nose, but he doesn’t want to excuse what Stiles has done, and if he shows even a second of remorse for Erica’s action then Stiles may think he has forgiven him. Which, no, not happening. Not any time soon.

“We met  _ officially _ back in 2010, in the first few months of our tour that year. We had seen each other around school when we were younger, because you know, we went to the same school. I’ll admit I was always attracted to you, even from afar at Beacon High, because I would have to be crazy not to, but I didn’t fall for you until we got to know each other during that tour.”

Derek feels like this is going to be a long story, but if he is reading this right, Stiles is going to try and keep it as simple as possible, so Derek shouldn’t feel too bombarded.

“It was the first year that Kate actually went on tour with us, but she didn’t spend all of her time with us like Allison is doing this year. She only came around to check up on us, and escort us to a few interviews. Her main agenda was to expand her network in each city, make more connections.” Stiles is looking down at his fingers, trying to parse out what to say.

“Why wasn’t I with her?” Derek asks seriously.

Stiles shrugs, eyes briefly looking up at hearing Derek’s voice for the first time since he started talking. “You never told me the specifics of  _ why _ you weren’t with her, it was always vague, and if I’m honest - I didn’t care. I was just happy to spend some time with you.”

Derek looks over at Boyd who’s listening intently.

“All I know is she got an extra hotel room for you two every time we stopped at a hotel, and nine times out of ten, you were alone in it. You would hang out with us all the time, and talked to us about her, but it was never  _ why _ she didn’t just take you with her while she ran around. She only took you along when she was going to a party or something where pictures might be taken.” Stiles swallows, “It became clear to all of us very quickly that she only wanted you around when she could show you off.” Stiles pauses to see if Derek will try and defend Kate.

Derek tossed that around in his head. It’s definitely possible, even back in high school she was like that. She never wanted to hang out alone, or stay in, they always had to go out and be around friends. 

“You talked to me more about your relationship, and it wasn’t good. You were always trying to figure out how to make her happy, but she never was.”

Derek cuts him off, not wanting to hear about Kate. Regardless of their relationship, what made him interested in Stiles? “So we were friends.” Derek says simply.

“Yes.” Stiles nods. “Very good friends.”

“Did you take advantage of me?” Derek says calmly, needing to know.

Stiles shakes his head abruptly. “No, God, Derek, No!” Stiles leans forward in his seat, scooting to the edge, his arms laying out what he was about to say in front of him. “We were friends for a long time before I ever considered the possibility of us being more. I was  _ sure  _ you were straight, and that I just had a crush. So, no. I swear on my life, I never  _ seduced you _ .” The last words fall from his tongue in disgust.

Derek doesn’t say anything, not sure if he can trust Stiles not to manipulate him into believing his version of the story. He did that with Kate, trusting her words, and according to practically  _ everyone _ , they were all a lie to get Derek back. 

Stiles’ tongue traces his teeth as he tries to figure out how to prove this fact to Derek. “If we are being honest here, you seduced me kind of. With your beautiful face, and thoughtful conversation, and late night talks about the love your parents had and how badly you wanted that for yourself.” Stiles’ eyes caress Derek’s features with a distance behind them, like he’s not really seeing, but seeing more somehow.

Derek huffs without thought. Yea, he did this to himself. Okay. Sure. Stiles sure knows how to sell  _ lovesick fool _ on a platter.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Stiles says quietly, his face soft, eyes returning to Derek’s.

Derek thinks back on other times Stiles would say this, how it was defensive, or a joke, or a way of flirting. 

This was different.

“I know this is difficult, and I know how much you hate people telling you about those years you lost, I get it. Trust me, but there isn’t any other way for me to explain without telling you about them.” Stiles says quietly, and Derek knows he’s referring to their conversation months ago after they visited the children’s hospital with his mother’s foundation. Stiles knows how much it bothers Derek to be told ‘who he was’ or ‘how he felt’ or ‘what he was like’ during those years he lost.

“So I seduced  _ you _ .” Derek says, not wanting to talk about himself, not about how he feels right now _ specifically _ .

“Yeah.” Stiles veers back to the train of thought he had earlier. “But I’m not saying this was all your fault or anything!” Stiles throws a hand in front of him, as though he can physically throw on the brakes. “God, I am so bad at this.” He rubs at his forehead, smoothing out the lines. “No, I was one hundred percent on board with what was happening, or  _ not  _ happening. I just wanted to be friends at the very least.”

Derek doesn’t know why that bothers him. Stiles would have been happy to just be his friend. Why is this wiggling in under his chest bone?

“Then you started giving those foot rubs, and looked at me like I was something worth loving,” Stiles continues, his eyes not really on Derek but darting around like he’s remembering. “And I just _ fell, Derek. _ I fucking fell for you. Hard.” Stiles swallows thickly. “I could list thousands of reasons that made me fall in love with you, down to your stupid foot thing you do when you’re falling asleep, that is actually really cute after it stops being annoying as all hell!”

Derek shifts in his seat, not sure what emotion that just stirred in him.

Stiles stills, clearing his throat to get back on track. “But I knew you were with Kate, and you were straight, and we were just friends - and I kept it completely platonic. I hardly flirted, as hard as that may be to believe.” Stiles smirks, but it only lasts a second after he meets Derek’s eyes. “I was so scared that I was going to freak you out that I did everything I could to radiate  _ not interested _ . But I was, Jesus H, Christ, was I in love with you.” 

“Stop saying you love me.” Derek says through clenched teeth. He can’t hear that right now, because he wants so badly to go back to this morning where he felt the same way.

Stiles stays quiet a second, his mouth working with unspoken words, before he nods and looks back at the floor.

“Okay.” Stiles scratches behind his ear. “Okay. You - uhh - you kissed me first.” Stiles says slowly, voice shaking, his eyes clenched as he remembers. “I was really drunk, dealing with the unrequited, but then you came to my room and kissed me. I was so ha-” Stiles cuts himself off, probably because he was about to express how in love he was again. “After I sobered up, we talked about what the kiss meant, and after that our relationship wasn’t so platonic.”

“Our  _ secret _ relationship.” Derek jabbed.

Stiles nods. “Yes. But we talked about that too, we knew what we were doing. We knew that if you broke up with Kate, one way or another she would find out about us. My contract restricted me from going public with my sexuality at the time, so the only way we would see each other would be on tour with the protection of management i.e.  _ Kate _ . Or only when I was home. So we agreed that it was better to just keep things the way it was.”

“How did Kate not notice?”

Stiles actually huffs a laugh. “There was no change for her, as far as she was concerned you were just hanging out with the band, and she only stopped by once a week, or to pick you up for parties. Honestly, Derek, if I thought we were hurting her, I would have insisted that we tell her.”

Derek doesn’t say anything, wanting to believe that Stiles is telling him the truth, but he can’t. He just can’t. “So she found out, and then I tried to apologize, and then we had the accident.”

“Yes.” Stiles chokes, his throat working. “Derek, I am so fucking sorry.” Stiles’ voice cracks, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “If I had known that would happen, I never would have let you leave the room, but I knew you needed to apologize so I let you go. I am so fucking sorry.”

“Stiles.” Derek says squeezing his eyes shut. He needs someone to blame. For years it was Kate, and then today it has been Stiles, but he can’t rightfully blame Stiles. So that only leaves him with himself to blame. “If this is all true, if you loved me like you say, then why didn’t you visit me at the hospital?”

“I was!” Stiles shouts before reeling himself back in. “I was. I flew back and forth between shows, going days without sleep, just so I could be there when you woke up - God, Derek. I was so fucking scared you wouldn’t wake up. I don’t know how I made it through the shows each night with how heavy with worry I was, but Kate made sure I attended every show.” Stiles stops to rub his palms against his knees. “But then when you finally woke up and you had no idea who I was.” A single tear falls from Stiles’ eye and he quickly flicks it away.

“You could have tried telling me.” Derek grumbles, not buying Stiles story. If Stiles really loved him he would have been there through his recovery. After knowing Stiles this past year, Derek can imagine how having Stiles around during his recovery would have helped. The comfort Derek has felt around Stiles is unparallelled by anything he’s ever felt before, and now it’s ruined. 

Derek can’t look forward to curling up in Stiles’ bunk on the bus after a show, or dancing at an after party against him, or locking themselves in a hotel room when given the chance. Derek can’t look forward to any of this, because just looking at Stiles hurts. 

It hurts because now all he can see are the lies, the manipulation, the tangle of questions that Derek can’t answer because he can’t fucking remember.

His comfort, and peace, is gone.

“I wanted to. Believe me. But I was a coward.” Stiles admits, unable to meet Derek’s eyes. “Do you remember what you told Laura and your mom when they tried to get you to meet me?”

“No.” Derek says, barely remembering most of his early conversations in the hospital, just how annoyed and angry he was.

“You said it was better that I move on, that you were a mess and didn’t have time for me. That you  _ could never feel the same way about me _ , because you would be starting fresh and I would already be past the finish line.” Stiles swallows.

“I was on a lot of drugs.” Derek says, not excusing the fact that Stiles just dropped him. If the roles were reversed, Derek is  _ sure _ he would have stuck around. Without a doubt. That is if this is all true, and the fact that Stiles didn’t stick around, leads Derek to think that Stiles is laying it on pretty thick.

“That’s true, but you had a very good point, and I was scared, and I just…” Stiles licks his lips, rubbing a hand roughly across his cheekbone and wincing with the pressure against his fresh bruises. “I’ve spent years wishing I could go back and demand you see me in the hospital, but I didn’t and I can’t change that.”

“Fine.” Derek sinks further into his chair, unable to parse out what he’s feeling. “Why didn’t you tell me when you saw me again? At that show? In your trailer? In the past eight fucking months, Stiles? How long were you going to let this go on?”

“I was trying to tell you this morning!” Stiles shouts right back. “But you’re right, I should have told you long ago. I know that.” Stiles drags his hands through his hair. “We’ve already established that I am a coward, that I ignore big problems in hopes they go away. I just, I had just got you back, Derek, and I was fucking terrified I would lose you again. I needed - I needed you to fall in love with me again. I needed to prove not only to myself, but to you that you loved me once, and could love me again.”

“Okay.” Derek says, turning to look at Boyd, to remind himself that he’s not alone. “So to recap. We were friends, relationship or not, you said we were really good friends before everything. Then I lost my memory. And you didn’t even try and be my friend, you said earlier that you would have only been my friend if that was all you could have.” There it is. Now Derek knows why he was bothered earlier when Stiles was talking about their friendship.

Stiles eyes widen, understanding what Derek is implying, and he shakes his head quickly as his mouth works to form words of defense.

“No. You didn’t want to be friends. You left me in that hospital bed, I was broken and no longer worth your time. You were off living like a rockstar and I was going through months of torture. I may not have remembered you, but you could have tried to be my friend again, if we were  _ really  _ that close.”

“Derek- Kate - she threatened me and you and-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Derek says with a swipe of his hand, standing up. “Kate tried to say the same thing about you. It doesn’t matter who threatened who. We may have had something back then Stiles. Friendship, or more, but that was then. I am not the same person, I don’t remember everything you do, and honestly, I don’t think I want to. Because then it would hurt more to know you didn’t try, and weren’t there for me.”

“Derek-” Stiles is standing now too.

“The funniest part of all of this is that this morning I was ready to live the rest of my life with you. I thought you were the most genuine person I had ever met. But now? I can’t even look at you without seeing a year of lies.” Derek walks toward the door, ready to leave, he’s pretty sure they have a show to get ready for anyway.

“Derek, please - we can fix -” Stiles reaches for Derek, and Derek tugs his arm out of reach. 

“No Stiles, _we can’t_. _I can’t_ _trust you!_ As far as I’m concerned, there isn’t any more ‘we’ or ‘us’ it’s just _you_ and _me._ Separate. We will still finish the tour, but we?” Derek motions between the two of them with a broad hand. “We are finished.” Derek doesn’t look at the broken look in Stiles’ eyes any longer than he has to. He needs out, he needs to move past this part of his life. He needs to focus on his future, and his new friends, and put everything related to his accident behind him

* * *

 

Stiles barely registers Lydia coming through the door before it closes and the weight of what all has happened slams down on Stiles like a fallen grande piano.

There are hands on him, cupping his face, and he knows they are Lydia’s but all he can see is Derek walking out of the room. 

Derek left.

Derek ended everything.

It’s  _ over. _

He feels his knees hit the floor, and moisture soak his face, but he doesn’t know where it’s coming from, or who knocked him down this time. He doesn’t see Erica, all he can see is Derek’s back as he walked away. 

Derek’s face when he told Stiles it was over.

Derek’s eyes when he said he couldn’t trust him.

Derek’s  _ gone _ .

Stiles has ruined everything.

By this point he knows he’s crying, how could he not be? 

Lydia is talking, he can feel her breath against his cheek, unheard words tickling his scalp. 

“It’s over.” Stiles manages to say outloud, and he’s done. He’s sobbing now, big, angry, heartbroken tears. It’s fucking over. How did he let this happen?

Lydia pulls him into her lap, petting his hair as he empties all of the tension, and worry, and pain he has had under wraps for so long. 

Derek’s gone.

He’s really lost him this time.

And it’s not because of a tragic accident, or brain damage, but because of Stiles own cowardice.

Derek doesn’t trust him, and never will again. 

Derek’s gone.

* * *

 

Boyd doesn’t say anything on the way back to Derek’s room, and Derek appreciates it. He’s barely restraining himself from hyperventilating.

Stiles is gone.

The man Derek had grown to love, adore, and worship - is gone.

Stiles isn’t who Derek thought he was.

He’s a liar.

Stiles and all of his friends lied to him for almost a year. They all knew what Stiles was doing, Stiles was trying to make Derek fall in love with him, and they stood back and let Derek play into his fucking game. 

The man Derek was ready to spend the rest of his life with - is gone.

Derek clenches his eyes as Boyd opens the hotel room, bracing himself for Jackson and Erica who will be waiting on the other side. 

They walk in slowly, and Derek goes straight for his bags, determined to not let this destroy him, and go about his evening like any other - with the absence of Stiles, but normal other wise.

He pulls out fresh clothes and heads to the shower.

“What happened?” Jackson is asking, following Derek.

Erica close behind, “What did he have to say for himself?”

“Nothing.” Derek responds simply. “It’s nothing.”

Jackson puts himself between Derek and the bathroom. “What does this mean for the band?”

Derek blinks, “I would never let-” He would never let something like this ruin all their futures. “Boyd, you payed more attention to Peter and Allison, can you?” Derek motions to the two inquiring faces. 

Boyd nods, and Derek walks around Jackson and locks himself in the bathroom to try and wash the past few hours off of his skin. 

He refuses to let Stiles or anyone else ruin his or his friends future. They have each other. They will stay strong. They will be the biggest Goddamn rock stars the world has ever seen.

* * *

 

**Stage One: Denial**

Derek braces himself when he picks up his bags to head down to the back parking lot to load into the tour bus. He isn’t looking forward to being stuck in a bus with five liars. He knows, without doubt, that they will all try to talk to him and make him believe them. He doesn’t want to deal with this. He just wants to make it to the show, and work.

His friends circle him, a united front as they step outside, and Derek can’t thank them enough. 

Derek can see the liars all loading onto the bus, each taking turns to look at him. Derek’s eyes land on Stiles last who looks wrecked,  _ as he should be _ , Derek thinks bitterly.

Derek never considered himself a spiteful person in the past, but today, right now? He’s spiteful. He imagines Stiles smiling and going about his normal day, and it fills Derek with rage.

Derek makes toward the bus’ steps when Stiles intersects and cuts Derek off with a hand to his chest, which is like a brand to Derek’s skin. Derek knocks the hand away. “What?” 

Stiles clears his throat and shoves his hand in his pocket, as he tilts his head in the direction behind Derek. “We - I figured you wouldn’t want to be around us so we finally got that second bus…” Stiles eyes slip between Derek and something behind him.

Derek turns around, and there’s another tour bus, door open, and waiting. Derek turns back to Stiles, and Stiles gives him a small smile that doesn’t meet his eyes as he walks away and loads onto his bus.

Derek hears the others around him holler in excitement at having their own bus, but Derek is stuck at seeing Stiles swollen eyes. Stiles hadn’t looked like that before Derek walked out of the room. Derek turns on his heel, and makes his way to their bus and decides not to worry about Stiles ever again.

* * *

 

Derek hears his mom before he sees her, which is a testament of its own considering how loud the arena is so close to the start of the show.

“Finstock, don’t act like you don’t know who I am. Let me see my boys.” She tells him with an authoritative tone.

Derek turns toward the voice and his mom is blocked by Finstock at a door, but she doesn’t look angry, and is listening closely to whatever Finstock is saying to her.

She reaches a hand out and squeezes Finstock’s shoulder with pinched lips before nodding. 

Derek is making his way toward her while he takes in as much information as he can. He hasn’t seen his mom in months, and both times he’s seen her since he started touring, there’s no way she would have such familiarity with Finstock.

He thinks back to all the revelations today about his past with Stiles and he can’t recall anyone saying that his mom  _ really _ knew… but Derek would have to be brain dead to not expect his mom to have found out and investigated further. Derek remembers that Stiles said he spent a lot of time at the hospital after the accident, so maybe that was how his mom found out.

Derek is finally within a few feet of his mom, and speaks up so she is aware of his presence instead of just standing there with his thinking face on. If there is one thing he knows about his mom, it’s that she can read him like a book, so he needs to act like he has no worries in the world if he wants to get out of this conversation as unscathed as possible.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Derek asks with the brightest smile he can muster.

She turns instantly to his voice and returns a blinding smile. “Derek, Sweetheart!” She walks around Finstock, her hand trailing across his shoulder as she exits their conversation. Something she frequently does when she has to leave a conversation that may not be done, but wants the person to know she’s not trying to be rude. “I’ve heard some nasty things were published today, and I wanted to come check on you.” She smiles, wrapping him in a hug around his shoulders. 

Derek takes a deep breath, inhaling his mother’s signature perfume. God, he’s missed her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine.” Derek smiles.

“Don’t lie to me, Derek. I’m your mother and your fake smiles do nothing for you with me.” She says with a pointed finger before she crosses her arms to pin him with a stare.

Derek drops his head a fraction, losing the smile. He knew better, but he hoped for the best. “Sorry. I’m really okay though.” He tries, effectively shamed.

She softens around the edges, but her tone remains firm. “I know you’re not, but I’ll pretend I believe you.”

* * *

 

Stiles is walking out of the dressing rooms, with two makeup artists trying to work miracles to cover his purple snout, to find Alison who told him to find her ASAP. As Stiles rounds a corner he sees Talia, and he flinches to run forward and beg her to hold him for five minutes, because she has this thing about her where if she wraps you in her arms you feel completely protected - much like Derek. 

Stiles just barely stops when he realizes that the body in front of her is Derek. Stiles would know that shoulder to waist ratio anywhere. 

He tries to come up with a game plan to see her before she leaves so that he can tell her  _ again _ , to play dumb and not let Derek find out that she has been lying to him too. This is Stiles’ fault and she shouldn’t suffer the consequences.

Suddenly she looks up and Stiles can see the moment she registers the makeup artists and what they are doing. Stiles doesn’t let himself believe that the bruising is hidden all the way, and yep, she definitely just zeroed in on the stitches. 

_ Fuck. _

Stiles shakes his head emphatically telling her  _ not to say anything,  _ his teeth clenched, and lips moving with harsh words he never would dream of saying to his adopted mom, but the situation needs stronger words. Let it be known that he  _ doesn’t  _ say them, but he  _ wants  _ to.

She grabs Derek’s ear, and starts dragging him the ten feet until she reaches Stiles. 

Derek is pulling at her arms, and complaining, and when she gets close enough, Stiles can hear what she’s saying.

“-done? Derek Alexander Hale, what have you done to this boy?” 

“What?-ow” Derek complains, eyes not on Stiles yet. “Mom, let go! -Ow- seriously- ow ow - I’m not five!” Then Derek looks up and his eyes meet Stiles’.

Derek’s face closes off, and great, that’s just one more thing for Derek to be mad at him for. 

_ You made my mom try to rip my ear from my head. You are the actual worst. _

Stiles tries to reconcile the situation quickly with a gesture to his face, “No! He didn’t do this! This was Erica.” Stiles throws an arm out in desperation and smacks her in the rib, which feels like striking an infant. Not because she’s fragile or anything, but because  _ holy God! How did he just lay a finger on her? _ “I’m so sorry, mom! Oh my, God!” Stiles feels his face drain the second the word slips out. He tries to power through and hope that maybe Talia’s hold on Derek’s ear rendered him temporarily deaf for just a second. “So what are you doing here? Here for the show? It’s gonna be a good one I can tell - I heard the sound check and Derek sounded better than ever - totez going to rock the house tonight. Have you been to any of his shows? He’s really-”

“Did you just call  _ my  _ mom,  _ mom?” _ Derek asks with a hard tone, his ear finally released after the slip shocked Talia’s systems.

“Hmm?” Stiles tries to deflect. “Did I? Must have been a slip. Actually, I call all of my friends moms, mom. It-”

Derek looks to his mom. “Is there something you two need to tell me?” He looks furious, but in a tender way, like he knows what the answer is, but is hoping relentlessly that he’s wrong. 

Stiles sees Talia caving, which honestly, Stiles knew she was going to tell him regardless, so she’s not even folding, she’s just putting everything on the table. Still though, Stiles pinches his lips at her while Derek is looking at her, begging her not to drag herself into this mess.

“Yes he did.” She says simply, and those three little words open Derek up to a whole new world of lies and deceit.

Derek looks between the two of them, and Stiles can’t breathe. “This is unbelieveable. You-” he starts to point at Stiles, already backing away. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” He lifts his hands in surrender.

Erica chooses that exact moment to walk over, and glare at Stiles. 

Derek tries to grab her shoulder. “It was great seeing you, mom. Hopefully, you can stay for the show. We need to go finish getting ready.” 

Talia responds, but she grips Erica’s other shoulder, silently telling her to remain where she is. “Alright, sweetheart. Break a leg!” She smiles like all is right in the world.

Once Derek’s back is turned, Stiles tries to determine if he should walk away too, and honestly he’d prefer not to stand within arm's length of Erica.

Talia clears her throat, and Stiles sees for the first time, Erica nervous. “Erica, I am going to tell you this one time, and one time only.” She tightens her grip on Erica’s shoulder. “Don’t you  _ dare _ lay another finger on Stiles, do you hear me?”

Erica nods vigorously.

“Wonderful.” Talia smiles, like she didn’t just put the fear of God in Erica in a matter of seconds. “Now that we understand each other, I believe you have a show to get ready for.” Talia releases her and Erica scurries off in the same direction Derek went a moment ago.

“I’m so sorry.” Stiles says once it’s just the two of them.

She looks back at him with pinched, perfect, eyebrows. “What are you apologizing for?” She blinks and moves on. “I came to see how you’re holding up. I saw the initial article, and Peter  has already filled me in, and all the articles since are only fanning the fire. Have you talked to him?” She asks finally.

Stiles nods weakly, his eyes falling, not able to face her.

“Stiles…” She demands. “What does he know? Did you tell him everything?”

Stiles nods, “I did. But he…” He shakes his head.

“Sweetheart.” She coos, already wrapping him in a hug. “It’s alright. He just needs some time. It will all work out.”

Stiles feels the moisture gather at the rim of his eyes, and he refuses to blink them away and let them fall. “I don’t know. I really messed up. This is really bad.”

“I know.” She soothes with a palm down his spine. “I know.”

* * *

 

This day will forever go down in Derek’s history as his worst. You would think the day of the accident or any of the days following would have been the worst day of Derek’s life, hands down, but this one has been a nightmare.

Derek pauses between songs to swallow down as much water as he can, and takes a look around at all of the signs in the audience. He didn’t notice until now how  _ few _ Sterek signs litter the audience, which have dominated the cardboard for months.

Derek realizes that even though the article had been taken down within an hour, it must have still been picked up by the rest of the internet. He’s not even looked at his phone since his talk with Stiles, and he’s ignored most things going on around him and has simply been trying to shut his mind off entirely. 

Call him a coward, but he just really doesn’t want to deal with this right now.

Derek looks to the side of the stage out of habit and sees Stiles where he always sits, but unlike the last few months, Stiles is staring at the floor with a blank stare, his arms crossed tightly. His mom is seated next to him, and smiling on at Derek with a wave when they make eye contact. 

Derek doesn’t understand how she can handle situations like this as if there isn’t a problem in the world. Derek is actually doing his best to do that himself, and it’s impossible. 

He now knows that his mom has kept in contact with Stiles all these years, and that they had a connection worthy of Stiles adopting her as a mother figure. Derek feels frustration bubble at the audacity of Stiles to think he has any right to call his mother mom. He has his own-

Derek chokes momentarily on his water, and recovers, quickly looking away from Stiles.

Stiles  _ doesn’t _ have a mom.

Derek squeezes his eyes shut and pinches his nose.  _ No. _ He is not going to feel bad for Stiles, he’s still hurt. Stiles doesn’t deserve any sympathy.  _ No. _

Derek thinks about how he hasn’t really told anyone how he’s feeling, and isn’t too sure himself. He’s mentally, a mess. He’s ignoring everything as best he can, but then something will wiggle in and upset him. He’s just not ready to perform a full autopsy on all the carnage that led him to this point. He just  _ can’t. _

He decides to think about how this is the first time his mom has been to one of his shows. He should do something for her. He runs through all the songs that he and his friends know how to perform while Erica banters with the audience, buying him time. 

He wishes he had thought about this and already had a ‘mom song’, because he’s seriously underprepared for this opportunity.

Then suddenly it hits him. It’s not really a ‘mom song’ per se, but it applies to the current situation fairly well actually. He makes his way to Boyd first to verify that he’s comfortable doing a song they haven’t played since their early garage years.

* * *

 

Stiles doesn’t look at Derek because then Derek might look at him, and he just _ can’t  _ right now. If he had it his way, he would be backstage somewhere out of sight, doing what he always does- avoiding the problem until it goes away, but at this point Stiles should know that doesn’t work and start facing his problems like an actual adult.

Talia dragged him over when Derek started his set, and Stiles just couldn’t look her in the eye and tell her no. He wishes he could at least enjoy her company, laugh, smile, joke, hug, touch - but he can’t because he doesn’t want to hurt Derek any more than he already has.

“You all have been a great crowd tonight, and I want to thank you - on behalf of all of us,  _ Fallout Shelter _ included - We want to thank you for making all of this possible. You cannot fathom how much we love you all.” Derek declares to the screaming arena.

Stiles smiles at the floor, listening to how strong Derek’s voice is, how confident he is now in front of thousands of people. How he doesn’t mumble, or stumble over words with nerves.

Derek continues, and Stiles sees him walk across the stage out of his peripheral vision. “Tonight is a very special night, and I’ll tell you why.” Derek’s voice ticks up just a little, and Stiles flashes his eyes over to see Derek holding up a finger as he walks across the front of the stage, before he places his hand over his heart, and his voice drops an octave. “My mom is here tonight.”

The crowd erupts, and hands fly in the air shaping hearts.

“Thank you.” Derek ducks his head. “It’s actually the first time she has seen us play live, so this is pretty important to all of us, and in honor of her - we are going to play a song that we haven’t even thought about since our first year we played together in Erica’s dinghy garage.” Derek pulls a face at the memory.

“Hey!” Erica shouts.

Derek chuckles. “Without further adieu, please help us sing this next song, I’m sure you all know it.”

Derek takes a seat next to Jackson on a stool by the keyboard, and Jackson, Erica, and Boyd start off the song finding harmony easily.

“[Is this real life?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jl6oJTB4TpA) _  Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality.” _

Stiles smiles when he realizes what song it is. 

_ “Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see!” _

Derek smiles, swaying as he sings.  _ “I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy.” _

The others continue.  _ “Because I'm easy come, easy go, little high, little low.” _

Derek comes in again and finds his harmony among the others. _ “Anyway the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me.” _

Derek sings alone, voice dropping.  _ “-to me.” _

Jackson leads into the next verse on the keyboard.

Derek sings, still swaying to the music.  _ “Mama, just killed a man. Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he's dead.” _ He lifts his hand, forming a gun and pulling the trigger against his temple.

Stiles imagines Derek is singing about him, and that this song is more telling than anything he’s said since the article came out this morning.

_ “Mama, life had just begun!” _ Derek’s timbre is impressively effortless. _ “But now I've gone and thrown it all away.” _

Stiles swallows and with a quick glance, Talia is placing a hand on his knee for a brief moment.

_ “Mama, ooh!” _ Derek groans, voice like molasses, and igniting every nerve in Stiles’ body.  _ “Didn't mean to make you cry! If I'm not back again this time tomorrow! Carry on, carry on. As if nothing really matters.” _

Boyd picks up the volume with his drums, while Derek prepares for the next verse.

_ “Too late, my time has come. Sent shivers down my spine.” _ Derek closes his eyes, focussing on his words.  _ “Body's aching all the time. Goodbye everybody, I've got to go! Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth.”  _

Stiles doesn’t miss how Derek doesn’t look over at them once.

_ “Mama, ooh!”  _ Derek belts a little louder. _ “I don't wanna die! I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all!” _

Stiles throat constricts at the passion behind Derek’s words, and Stiles hates that he did this to him.

As the music changes Derek stands up and walks around behind Boyd and starts conducting with two fingers to the new tempo.

_ “I see a little silhouetto of a man!” _ Derek sings happily. A complete 180 from how his voice was only a moment ago.

The other come back in, harmony still in place.  _ “Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?” _

Boyd bangs on the drums, a barely there smile peeking out.

_ “Thunderbolt and lightning. Very, very frightening me.” _

Derek cries.  _ “Galileo!”  _

_ “Galileo.”  _ Jackson echoes.

_ “Galileo!”  _

_ “Galileo.”  _

Then together.  _ “Galileo, Figaro.” _

_ “Magnifico!”  _ They all sing together.

The music decrescendos, and Derek sings quietly.  _ “I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me.” _

They crescendo again all singing back at him.  _ “He's just a poor boy, from a poor family! Spare him his life from this monstrosity!” _

Derek curls in on himself beside Boyd, a seeking hand stretched toward him.  _ “Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?” _

The audience join the others with the next verse.  _ “Bismillah! No, we will not let you go.” _

Derek holds the microphone toward the audience, inviting them to scream the line.  _ “Let him go!” _

Stiles is still baffled with how easy it is for Derek on stage now, and finds some comfort in the fact that Derek is finding solace in their fans.

They repeat the line, and Derek holds the mic out again for the audience.  _ “Let him go!” _

They sing the line again, and Derek cries into the mic.  _ “Let me go!” _

_ “Will not let you go.” _

_ “Let me go!” _

_ “Never, never let you go. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” _

Derek pulls at his hair.  _ “Oh, mama mia, mama mia.“ _

_ “Mama mia, let me go! Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me!”  _ They all scream.

Stiles watches the corner of Derek’s mouth tick up as he rushes to the front of the stage and starts jumping around to the more energetic tempo.  _ “So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?”  _ Derek points at his for emphasis.  _ “So you think you can love me and leave me to die?”  _

Stiles catches Derek’s quick glance his way, their eyes meeting for a fraction of a second, but that fraction speaks volumes.

_ “Oh, baby, you can't do this to me, baby!” _ Derek stumbles backwards, then darts to the other side of the stage away from Stiles.  _ “Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here!” _

Stiles swallows as the music starts to die down, and Derek finds his place back on the stool next to Jackson where he started.

_ “Nothing really matters.” _ Derek sways, shoulders sagging.  _ “Anyone can see.” _ He shrugs.  _ “Nothing really matters, nothing really matters to me!” _

Jackson plays a few more notes and Derek accompanies with a quiet voice.

_ “Anyway the wind blows…” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out. Things have been crazy the last few weeks. 
> 
> After the last chapter I received a handful of comments asking if Sterek was endgame, and I had honestly not even considered that you all would be worried about that! How awful would I have to be to write this and tag it Sterek and then NOT end with Sterek?! That's a whole new level of evil, that even I cannot stomach doing. Sure, I may carry you all through a whole lot of drama, and pain, but eventually, these boys will make it work. I'm just making sure they get there as realistically, and healthily as possible. Sure I could shove them together and make them kiss everything better, and I can confirm that yes, I have done this frequently through out this fic, just to make myself happy during stressful conversations, like in this chapter, but for the sake of plot and all that nonsense, I can't do that.
> 
> I sat and wondered why you all might be worried about this, aside from the obvious drama that could hurt any relationship. And I can see it. And I'm not complaining.
> 
> If Sterek wasn't endgame, I'm not sure who would be. It's set up to where Stiles could end up with a number of people. 
> 
> Stadore - Which (low key) I am in love with and if I wasn't Sterek Eternal, I would end this fic with them, because I luh dem so much. (Did anyone watch the first episode for Drag Race All Stars 2? I am in literal tears over how shitty Michelle is to Adore. I want to punch her in her throat so fucking bad. Ohmahgahd.
> 
> Stanny - This is honestly one of the last ships I would consider end game in this because Sure, Danny loves Stiles, and Stiles loves him, but Stiles used Danny as a coping mechanism, and Danny would always know that he isn't Stiles' first choice.
> 
> Stinho - (Minho) In case you all didn't catch that a few chapters back, Stiles' first real relationship was with Minho, and Minho didn't care for the rockstar life and they ended on amicable terms.
> 
> Stydia - Because no one cares for Stiles like Lydia cares for Stiles (even if it is mostly a mother hen kind of love)
> 
> and Stisaac - Because of reasons.
> 
> So yea, sorry for scaring you guys. I still support all of these ships, and the alternate universes that these could have been end game in, but not this one. 
> 
> The question isn't IF Sterek will be end game, but HOW Sterek will be end game. 
> 
> Anyway, I'll stop rambling. Also, I am curious on your thoughts of the ships listed above... good and bad. Let me have it! 
> 
> Also, I received a number of comments that made me happier than anything ever has after the last chapter, and in summary they said something along the line of "So realistic. So natural. Much good!" Ahhh! One of my biggest things is trying to keep character development and motivations straight in my head and to have it confirmed that I have at least sort of done that. I died. I am dead. This is me, writing from the grave. Thank you!
> 
> Luh you, cuties!


	23. Tonight is all about ‘We miss you’.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek might be trying to adopt Stiles' practice of ignoring a problem until it goes away.
> 
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

Stiles stands up when Derek’s finished their last song and braces himself for what’s sure to come, because he expects Derek to walk right past him as though he doesn’t even exist. 

Talia stands next to him and squeezes his shoulder as the band takes their bows and offer thanks to the arena. She checks her phone and walks away to take a call, leaving Stiles to stand awaiting the inevitable.

Derek walks off stage behind his friends, the residual adrenaline still tinging his cheeks pink, and Stiles traces the lines of his face as he gets closer. Derek’s eyes meet Stiles’ and his steps falter to a halt a few feet in front of him leaving them to stand staring at each other silently.

This is where Derek would wrap Stiles in a hug and Stiles would tell him how great he was, and then Derek would kiss him good luck for his set. Stiles wishes so badly that this morning didn’t happen. That  _ none _ of this happened.

But it did.

Derek swallows, collects his thoughts, lifts his head, and walks right past Stiles just as Stiles anticipated.

Talia comes back over, having handled whatever it was that pulled her away. “That looked…”

Stiles steels his shoulders and turns to her with the brightest smile he can muster. “It’s okay. I’m going to get him back.” He has to, there’s no other choice. Stiles refuses to believe Derek is gone for good. Not after everything they have been though, this can’t be the end. Stiles won’t let it.

* * *

 

Stiles waits until he knows Derek is at the side of the stage and watching. He worried for awhile that Derek wouldn’t show, but he kept telling himself that Derek loved him, twice, and that Derek isn’t gone yet.

When Stiles finishes another song he checks the side of the stage again to finally see Derek sitting with a drink in his hand and talking with his mom. Whether Derek sat of his own accord, or was forced by his mom like Stiles had been, Stiles isn’t looking that gift horse in the mouth.

Stiles nods to his friends, all of them waiting for the queue to play  _ Miss Missing You _ .

It had been hard trying to decide on just  _ one _ song to hammer in tonight, because pretty much every song Stiles has ever written since he met Derek has been about him one way or another. After a half hour of spitting song titles at each other they finally decided on this one. Stiles hopes they made the right choice.

They start immediately, afraid that Derek might walk off any second.

Stiles has sung these words at every show all tour, but never for this reason. Never to try and prove to Derek that what they had was genuine. That Stiles loved him then, and now still. “[Don’t panic! ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QJZHYV_U3Zs) _ No not yet!” _ Stiles  decides to keep his eyes on Derek for however long he has to until Derek eventually looks up and realizes that Stiles is singing to him.

Talia points to lead Derek’s line of sight toward Stiles after she meets his eyes and figures it out for herself.

Derek glances up and meets Stiles’ eyes with a roll of his head once he registers what is happening. 

Let the record show that Stiles does  _ not _ fumble his words at seeing Derek’s open distaste for him.  _ “I know I’m the one you want to forget.” _

Derek’s shoulders raise slightly, and Stiles turns the corners of his lips down at Derek’s amused huff.

_ “Cue all the love to leave my heart! It’s time for me to fall apart.” _ Stiles wrote this the year before Derek came back. After years of grieving and fighting his own demons, his friends helped him write an album that exercised all of them and for the first time in half a decade, he was okay. 

He had to just finally let go of all the tethers that restricted the last piece of his heart from shattering, and just let it finally happen. Writing this album was one of the hardest things Stiles has ever endured. He had to dissect everything within himself and piece himself back together from the ground up.

This was one of the focal points of why Isaac and Allison demanded this song, because it’s about how Stiles never wanted to move on, but in a way he did. They found it poetic. Stiles isn’t so sure he agrees anymore.

_ “Now you’re gone, but I’ll be okay.”  _ Stiles momentarily panics at his choice of words, because if Derek doesn’t realize this was about  _ before _ he may think it’s about  _ now _ , and Stiles is definitely not going to be okay if he loses Derek again.

Stiles refuses to even think about what would happen to him if Derek walked away for good.

It just cannot happen.

It’s out of the question.

Stiles looks away for the next line, because it’s an ode to Danny, how he was there for him, and took care of him when even his friends couldn’t help anymore.  _ “Your hot whiskey eyes have fanned the flames. Maybe I’ll burn a little brighter tonight. Let the fire breathe me back to life!”  _

Danny encouraged him to focus on the band, and his fans, because he had a lot to give. Danny told him to be in love with his music like before he met Derek, to let that be the fire under him to help him keep going.

Stiles looks back at Derek, remembering all the years before, and this past year. Derek has always been his everything.  _ “Baby, you were my picket fence!” _

Derek blinks at him, maybe the song is settling in where it should.

Stiles can only hope. 

As with any song, you can try and parse out the writers meanings, the origins of the emotions, but without context it’s hard to really know. Derek finally has context, and Stiles hopes he’s putting the pieces together.

_ “I miss missing you now and then.” _ Stiles tilts his head down, trying to silently confirm that  _ yes, this song is about me missing you, jackass. _

Stiles looks out at the audience, because they are paying to see him, and not the back of his head.  _ “Chlorine kissed summer skin!” _ Stiles remembers hotel pools at four in the morning where they would sneak in unnoticed. Something so small and insignificant, but memories that mean the universe to Stiles now.

Stiles looks back at Derek.  _ “I miss missing you now and then.” _

Derek’s arms are crossed, and Stiles knows he’s listening, even if he wishes he weren’t.

_ “Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger! The person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger!” _

Derek raises a brow at the irony of that. 

Stiles never meant to hurt him, Derek has to know that. _ “Oh. We’re fading fast! I miss missing you now and then.” _ Stiles tries to put everything he feels for Derek into his gaze at that moment. 

Derek attempts to stand and walk away but Talia grabs his arm without even looking up and drags him right back down, where Derek continues to pout like a petulant child.

_ “Making eyes at this husk around my heart, I see through you when we’re sitting in the dark.”  _ Stiles taps his heart, remembering all too much. _ “So give me your filth, make it rough, let me let me trash your love.” _ Again, this song still paid tribute to Danny, but only because of what happened to Derek.

Stiles would have never been with Danny had he not lost Derek. Stiles thinks about how he took advantage of Danny’s affection, and used him, which is why Stiles tells Danny every time he sees him how much he cares for him and appreciates everything he has done for him.

Derek cracks his neck, looking for any reason not to look at Stiles. 

Nope. Not having that. Not right now. 

Stiles walks toward Derek, demanding his attention.  _ “I will sing to you every day! If it will take away the pain!” _ Stiles means every word. And unfortunately for Derek, Derek is going to have to listen to him sing for at least another 2 and a half months.  _ “Oh and I’ve heard you got it, got it so bad, 'cause I am the best you’ll never have!”  _

Derek blinks rapidly at that, and Stiles taps a strong finger to his temple, confirming that  _ yes,  _ that was about the fact that he will never  _ remember _ what they had.

Derek looks at the floor and Stiles chances another few steps closer, bending with the desperation in his words.

_ “Baby, you were my picket fence. I miss missing you now and then. Chlorine kissed summer skin! I miss missing you now and then.” _ Stiles pulls at the shirt on his chest, and hair, trying to portray just how fucking wrecked he was after Derek’s accident.

Derek squints at his sign of insanity.

_ “Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger! The person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger. Oh! We’re fading fast! I miss missing you now and then!” _

Derek blinks slowly at him, his eyes rolling just as slow behind his lids. 

_ Ok _ , Stiles thinks, backing away as he sings.  _ If you want to be mad at me for a little while, that’s okay. But I’m still going to tell you how much I love you everyday. So get used to it, bug guy. _

_ “Oh, Now and then!” _ Stiles finds his way back to his microphone stand, settles the mic back in, and sings from under his eyebrows, his head twisted back toward Derek.  _ “Baby, you were my picket fence. I miss missing you now and then.” _

After the music stops Stiles looks back to see if anything on Derek’s face has changed, if there is any hope, but what he sees is Derek yanking his arm out of his mother's grasp and walking backstage as he stuffs headphones in his ears.

* * *

 

Derek doesn’t even make it outside the venue before his mom is crashing through the door right behind him.

“Derek Alexander Hale, what is the matter with you?” Her tone indicates just who’s side she’s on and this infuriates Derek.

Derek mentally reprimands himself, because no, he’s not going to give into the anger, or anything for that matter. He just wants to ignore it and pretend it never happened. It’s not like there isn’t a circus of activity to use as distractions everywhere he goes.

Since his mom showed up before his set, he’s been trying to ignore everything. To not even think about how his mom and Stiles have a parental relationship of some sort, because that is a can of worms that Derek knows he’s not ready to handle. No thank you.

“I asked you a question, Derek.” She crosses her arms after snatching the lighter out of his hand.

“What do you want from me?” Derek doesn’t dare snatch the lighter back, but the unlit cigarette between his fingers doesn’t leave his mind.

She huffs at him. “I want you to tell me what is going on in your head.”

“Are you actually going to listen or just tell me that i’m wrong?” Derek reaches out slowly for his lighter, just barely cupping his hand around hers.

She thinks over what he just said and then slowly releases the lighter to him. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, it’s your life, but I want to understand why you are acting like this.”

Derek lights his cigarette looking over at the collection of security guards who have gathered around him and his mother to defend against the fans in the distance. “I’m acting like  _ this _ -” Derek gestures in the air with a swirl of his hand holding the cigarette, the smoke swirling with the movement. “-because they all  _ lied _ to me. They have been manipulating me. I can’t trust anything they say or do, ever again.”

“You don’t even want to let them try and  _ earn  _ your trust back?” She asks calmly, her crossed arms sliding down from her chest, to rest over her abdomen.

Derek sighs as he drags a hand over his face. “I don’t know. Maybe? Eventually?” He holds a desperate hand out toward his mom as he exhales the acrid smoke from his lungs out of the side of his mouth and away from her. 

Why is she insisting he think about this  _ right now? _

“I just need some time, more than a couple hours. I mean this all just happened, or  _ more accurately _ I just  _ found out _ this morning. I need time to process.” Derek leaves out the part of how he  _ really isn’t  _  trying to process anything, and is ignoring it to the best of his ability. 

Derek frowns at the irony of how his brain had no problem blocking out two full years of memories, but when he want’s to block out the largest stress bubble he’s ever encountered, his mind ignores all of his pleading cries for mercy.

“That is perfectly understandable.” She states with a soft smile. “Can I offer you my opinion on the matter?”

“If I say no, you’re just going to give it to me anyway.” Derek answers with a roll of his eyes.

She smiles and steps closer. “I know you're mad at all of them, specifically Stiles.”

Derek grunts.

“But I want you to know a few things.”

“Mom.” Derek pleads, not wanting to hear this.

“Just hear me out, and then I will stop talking about it...for now.”

Derek takes what he can get, and nods to get it over with.

“Stiles loves you. Peter, myself, and Laura have all known this since before the accident.”

“Laura?” Derek asks suddenly, not realizing she knew anything about this. 

“Yes, Laura. Before the accident, Stiles had management fly Cora and Laura out to see one of his shows and spend a few days on the road with you all. Laura came home and told me a lot about him and how the two of you behaved around each other. Cora didn’t really notice, but Laura was the first to pick up on it.”

Derek doesn’t know where to file this information. He decides to leave it in the pile of shit he has stashed away of things he is  _ not _ thinking about. 

“I knew that his feelings were real every time he came to the hospital after the accident. Before you woke up, he only left your side when Kate demanded he meet his contractual agreements. He would take last second flights, handle his business, and then get right back on a plane to come back to you. Each time I saw him he would try and tell me he was sleeping, but I wasn’t an idiot, and I’m not one now.”

Derek rolls his eyes. There’s no way Stiles cared about him  _ that _ much, otherwise he would have stuck around. “He just felt guilty.”

“Maybe, but that isn’t why he sat by you every chance he got, or why he called me every hour to see if you had woken up. Or why he called me everyday after to make sure you were getting through your recovery, and rehab, and that you were  _ happy _ .” She pauses, rolling something over her tongue before she lets it loose. “Even though you couldn’t see him, he was there the whole time.”

“He could have found out for himself.” Derek says petulantly.

His mom clicks her tongue. “Sure he could have, but he was scared. Fear is a powerful thing.”

Derek takes a long drag from his cigarette and thinks over what his mom just told him. It all parallels with what Stiles told him earlier in the hotel, but it still hurts. It does sound like the actions and motives of someone who is heartbroken and in love with someone who has been injured, but Derek just  _ can’t _ .

Derek takes another breath and looks at his mom. “It still doesn’t change the fact that he lied to me for months on end. I can’t just let that go.”

She nods, brushing some ash from his shirt. “No one expects you to. We just hope you look at the whole picture and not just that one detail.”

Derek offers a smile of reassurance, but it’s a lie. She doesn’t have to worry about him only focussing on one detail, because he’s not going to focus on  _ anything. _

* * *

 

After the show his mom insisted they all go out for dinner. It was a rather large dinner party and they ended up buying out an entire sushi bar for the night.

Laura, Cora, and Peter were all there too, and gave Derek pretty much the same speech as his mother had. Derek is so far over it, that he’s practically cloud surfing. 

He found himself trying to drown out the pain and stress with shots of Sake, lots and lots of Sake. 

Derek can’t remember the last time he was this intoxicated. 

Now Derek is being dragged back to his trailer, and he’s not even sure how he made it out of the bar, or even if he rode in a car at any point. In fact, his eyes aren’t even open and there is a very real possibility that Derek isn’t moving and has passed out on the counter back at the sushi bar, and his inebriation is causing him to feel floaty.

He manages to peak his eyes open to get an idea of his location and he’s in a low lit parking lot and in the distance he can see trailers for the tour, and his bus. 

Derek smiles at that. 

_ His _ bus.

Stiles knew he fucked up. Stiles knew Derek wasn’t going to want to see him. Stiles knows Derek has every reason to be mad at him. 

Derek closes his eyes as he awaits the comfort of  _ his own _ bunk on  _ his _ bus. His smile suddenly falls because he hadn’t realized he would go back to sleeping alone. He isn’t ready. But he should be. This should be a relief? 

In his inebriated state he isn’t so sure he wants to stay mad at Stiles because right now he just wants to curl up next to the warm body that has offered so much comfort in the last year. The one constant he’s had throughout tour was their bunk, and the fact that no matter what, they would curl up and cross state lines together.

“Wait, I need a smoke.” Derek bites out, feeling his stomach turn at the harsh reality that just made itself apparent. Derek squints his eyes open as he feels the legs next to him come to a stop. 

Derek knows that there is a much bigger picture here, but all that matters right now with so much Sake sloshing in his abdomen is that he doesn’t want to sleep alone.

He doesn’t want to be alone. He thought he had finally found  _ it _ . The love his parents had. 

He was  _ wrong. _

The next thing Derek smells is a cigarette in front of his face. Derek peaks open his eyes, still hanging over a shoulder, and leans forward to retrieve the cigarette with his lips. 

Derek takes a long drag, trying to collect his thoughts and remind himself that he doesn’t want to be any where near Stiles. “He didn’t evn try to be my frind.” Derek mumbles before lifting the cigarette back to his lips.

Boyd doesn’t answer but Derek didn’t expect him to. Boyd already heard this. 

“He culd’ve tried.” Derek grumbles. “Evryone says he loves me, but he didn’ try.”

Boyd squeezes his shoulder, and Derek squeezes his eyes closer together, fighting tears.

“No.” Derek lets go of the shoulders he’s wrapped around to rub at his nose, and almost falls but is caught just before he hits the ground. 

“Oh my God, Derek. Here-” a grunt. “There we go. That’s it.” 

Derek actually giggles as he finds his footing. 

“Yep.” The voice giggles quietly along with him. “Gravity works.”

Derek grins, his giggles subsiding as he lets his head fall to the shoulder holding him up. “Stiles us’d ta say that. ‘Gravity Works’” Derek mimics in a higher timbre like when Stiles wiped out as he ascended the bus’ steps a few days ago, which causes him to laugh at himself. He abruptly cuts himself off with a pout when he realizes he lost his cigarette in his own near fall. “Aw, I dropp’d my -”

There’s another at his lips and he greedily takes it with his lips and takes another puff.

“Where’s ev’ryone?” Derek asks, turning his head to scar the area around them. 

There’s a hesitation. “They all went to a bar. Come on, let’s get you some water, advil, and a mattress.”

That sounds perfect, and Derek turns to thank his friend when he finally realizes that it’s not Boyd who’s carrying him back to their bus. 

Derek tries to untangle himself from the body beside him but he quickly starts to lose his balance, and decides he’d rather not fall ass first, and steadies an unimpressed glare at the enemy.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Stiles says, looking away and focussing on dragging their feet closer to their destination. 

Derek tries to amplify the look Stiles doesn’t want, and in his mind he looks  _ really _ unimpressed and  _ really _ unhappy with his current situation, but he knows that with as drunk as he is, his eyes are probably crossing with intensity. 

“I’m not trying to seduce you or anything. I didn’t orchestrate this in any way.”

Derek huffs, eyes still glued to the side of Stiles’ face. 

“Everyone else wanted to go to some bar, and you - well look at you.” Stiles slides a glance over. “I volunteered to bring you back so that they could go out.”

“Good.” Derek grunts.

Stiles turns to look at him with raised brows. “Good?”

Derek nods. “It’s yer fault m’this drunk.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything to that, and they walk in silence. 

“How long’s this walk?” Derek groans.

Stiles giggles. “Less than two hundred feet, but you are not the easiest to drag across asphalt. It’s like you’re made of tentacles. Can you try and support your own weight?” Stiles retorts, but there isn’t any heat behind his words.

Derek groans again like this is all Stiles’ fault, that he has no room to complain. Derek feels he had every right to get hammered, and that Stiles be left to cart his drunk ass around. After all, after the day he had because of  _ Stiles _ he deserved to let drown out the world for a few hours.

“Look here, grumpy.” Stiles huffs as he attempts to walk faster. 

Derek is still staring at Stiles from the side. He hasn’t really let himself look at Stiles much since their talk, because he was afraid that if he did he wouldn’t be able to resist forgiving him. 

Stiles is just so beautiful. 

Derek looks at how his moles dot his cheek and neck, how his eyebrow curves over his eye, the uplift of his nose, or how Stiles’ mouth hasn’t closed and has been worrying at his lower lip.

Derek lifts his hand and pokes at Stiles’ nose. “S’hurt?”

“Ow!” Stiles barks, craning his face away. “What are you doing? Yes. Jesus.” 

A moment later Derek thinks he’s been dropped for poking Stiles’ broken nose when he feels steps below him. Derek gets his bearings and looks up to see Stiles gripping his nose and facing the other way with soft whimpers drifting over his shoulder. 

“I’m not apologizin’.” Derek says with a sway, not only for Stiles, but to remind himself that he’s not going to. He can’t feel sorry for Stiles.

Stiles doesn’t say anything as he turns slightly to face Derek. 

“I’m still mad at you.” Derek crosses his arms as he leans against some sturdy part of the bus for support.

“I know.” Stiles says softly. 

They sit silently for a moment, eyes locked on each other, and Derek both wants Stiles to beg forgiveness so that Derek can give in and not have to sleep alone tonight, and for him not to say anything at all because Derek doesn’t want to deal with it.

Stiles lets out a breath and steps forward with a hand out. “You can be mad at me as long as you want because I’m not going anywhere, but I’m not leaving _ here _ until you are safe in your bunk.” Stiles swallows, and Derek wants so badly to latch onto Stiles’ neck. 

Derek spots the remainder of a hickie from the night before peeking out from under Stiles’ collar. The sight of it hurts. Derek forces a nod, and lifts his hand for Stiles to drag him to his feet and lead him up the stairs. 

Stiles turns on the light over the sink, and Derek is thankful because he doesn’t think he could handle much more right now. Stiles leads him to the sink and fills a glass of water and finds a bottle of advil in the cabinet, before shoving both at Derek.

Derek grumbles but takes them, and finishes the water. 

Stiles grabs a hotdog bun next. “Eat this.”

“No.” Derek grumbles, stumbling back. He can’t figure out why he’s  _ glad _ Stiles is the one here right now, and why he simultaneously  _ furious _ that Stiles is here. 

Stiles growls through clenched teeth. “Derek, I know you enjoy spending your free time cleaning the bus, but do you really want to wake up and clean your own vomit from your bunk?”

Derek sees his point, but he doesn’t want to. “M’ybe I’ll sleep n Jackson’s.”

Stiles giggles, and shoves the bread forward again. “Eat the damn bread.”

Derek takes it and does, but he makes sure he doesn’t look happy about it.

Stiles leads him to his bunk once he’s finished, and holds the curtain open. 

Derek leans against the bunks across from his and starts to undo his pants to take them off. When he sees Stiles eyes widen to saucers and dart around, Derek knows he should say something sarcastic, or tell Stiles straight up not to get excited, that he doesn’t want to sleep with him anymore. 

But that would be a lie. 

Derek still wants to sleep with Stiles. 

Very much.

So. 

So. 

So. 

_ Much _ .

Derek focusses on his fly and tries to shove his pants down. When he’s met with resistance he switches to ripping his shirt over his head, which also gets stuck. 

Stiles starts giggling, and Derek wants to punch him. “Stop growling, Sourpatch. Let me help you.” 

Two broad hands slide up his sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and slide up his arms until they meet the fabric on either side and finish pulling the shirt off. Stiles throws it off to the side, and Derek doesn’t miss the soft smile on Stiles face that is quickly replaced with downward curls on either corner of his mouth. 

Stiles bends down to yank at Derek’s jeans, and Derek tries not to think about how close Stiles’ is to his waist. Stiles’ hands slide under the jeans at his thighs and lead them down with little resistance. 

Eventually, Derek is left standing in his briefs, still propped against the wall of bunks with his hips jutting forward. 

“Now, time for bed.” Stiles forces a smile and pushes Derek toward his bunk. 

Derek climbs in, ignoring how easy it would be for him to lean over and latch onto Stiles’ skin, but he knows there are reasons to resist. Even if none of them are coming to mind right now.

All he can think about is how bad he wants to sleep with Stiles, and how all this time he has been patient because Stiles was waiting until he was ready to tell Derek about his past. Now that Derek knows, that should mean it’s high time to bang, right? Derek’s frown deepens as he tries to figure out what is wrong with his logic.

Stiles tucks the blankets around him and brings him another bottle of water to keep with him. “Get some sleep, rockstar.”

When Stiles turns to leave, Derek grabs his hand before it slides from his bunk. “Stay…”

Stiles freezes and hesitates before he turns back around. “You have no idea how badly I want to.”

Derek doesn’t say anything. 

“God, do I want to.” Stiles steps over, their finger linking together. “I want… so much. But… if I… you would have even more reasons to be mad at me tomorrow.”

Derek wants to argue, that no, he won't be mad, he’s the one asking. 

Stiles’ hand hovers over Derek’s head like he wants to run his fingers through his hair like he always did when Derek found himself stressed past his means, but his hand falls back away. Their only contact being the hands linked between them. 

“I promised myself I would never take advantage of you again, in any way, shape, or form. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you are asking me to do right now.”

“Okay.” Derek mutters, knowing deep down that what Stiles just said is a big deal, but too tired to knit the pieces together. Derek pulls Stiles hand over his chest and closes his eyes. Stiles can pull away whenever he’s ready.

Stiles stands there a few more minutes, and probably thinks Derek has fallen asleep because Derek feels a press of lips to his knuckles, and a whispered, “I love you so much.”, followed by a choked sob.

Then Stiles hand slides out of his, and he listens to the footsteps walk out of the bus, the door close, and then the silence crashes in around him.

When he finally falls asleep he dreams of Stiles.

* * *

 

_ Derek gazes longingly toward the foot of the hotel bed where Stiles is lying on his belly, and propped on his elbows as he watches the TV across the room intently. The blanket is draped over his waist and Derek finds himself salivating to trace the moles spotting his lower back with his tongue. _

_ Derek crawls forward to do just that.  _

_ Stiles may only be a few feet away but Derek needs him closer, needs their skin pressed firmly together.  _

_ Stiles giggles beneath him when Derek makes the first connection with his tongue, but doesn’t try and stop him. _

_ Derek continues his patterns and settles his thighs on either side of Stiles’. He stretches his arms higher and kneads the muscles of Stiles’ shoulders, while he satisfies himself with the smooth curve of Stiles’ lower back. _

_ It only takes a few strokes of Derek’s thumbs to have Stiles moaning, and Derek isn’t complaining, the sound a beautiful melody to his ears.  _

_ “What did I do to deserve you?” Stiles breathes, his head falling a moment as Derek works at a knot in his neck. _

_ Derek doesn’t respond, his heart swelling beneath his breastbone, and smiles against Stiles’ skin as he continues working his hands across his shoulders. _

_ Stiles head is angled awkwardly against his pillow as he tries wholeheartedly to continue watching the nature program on the television. _

_ Derek can feel Stiles working himself up by the aborted thrusts of his hips below him, and the low heat radiating from his now pink skin. Derek admires his determination to finish the show, but Derek wants to see if he can break him. After all, it’s not often they have alone time like this. _

_ Derek wedges himself between Stiles’ legs as though only to get comfortable and lay down, but he has other intentions.  _

_ Stiles lets him between his legs easily, and Derek allows him a few moments to relax and think that Derek is just settling in for an extended cuddle as he gasps at the events surrounding the small animal on the program. _

_ Derek idly runs his hands along Stiles’ skin, working his flanks into goosebumps, and drags his beard across Stiles lower back to start working the blanket down further. _

_ Stiles is none the wiser as he reprimands the wolf on the program for not picking on someone his own size. _

_ Derek indulges himself and rests his head against the crest of Stiles’ ass, and closes his eyes to listen to Stiles interact with the animals on the show.  _

_ The fact that Stiles isn’t even bothered by Derek lying his head on his ass while he watches TV makes Derek’s heart skip a beat, because he has never felt this before. Never felt such unconditional affection, and trust, and he just really never wants to let this get away. _

_ Derek resumes his caresses to slowly work the pressure back up, and brings his hands closer to Stiles’ waist, and his thumbs find the dimples above Stiles’ ass. _

_ Stiles breathing starts to spead up, with small moans slipping from his lips, but he makes no outward indication that he is aware of what Derek is planning, and he steadies his gaze on the TV. _

_ Derek noses down the blanket to allow him access, his hands sliding down to kneed the large toned muscle that slightly twitches below his grasp.  _

_ “Fuck.” Stiles breathes. “Derek…” His tone is that of warning. _

_ “What?” Derek smiles, slowly spreading Stiles. _

_ Stiles hips stutter as he fights the urge to present himself. “I’m trying to watch this.” _

_ “And I’m trying to watch you.” Derek responds simply, blowing over Stiles’ hole.  _

_ Stiles whole body contracts. “Fuck. Derek. Goddammit. You’re the one that got me into these.” Stiles complains. _

_ Derek smiles and drags his tongue across the sensitive spot. _

_ Stiles is panting already. “Derek, please I’m trying to - fuck - I just need to know that the - ah - fox is going to be - shit, yeah - alright.” _

_ Derek sucks once before lifting his head enough to respond. “I’m not stopping you.” _

_ “I hate you so much.” Stiles laughs, and tries unsuccessfully to give the show his attention as Derek meticulously takes him apart with his tongue and a choice finger that meets little to no resistance. _

_ “I can stop if you want.” Derek offers, knowing there is no chance in hell Stiles would take him up on that offer.  _

_ “You’re not funny.” Stiles breathes, canting his hips toward Derek where he’s lost contact. “I will do unspeakable things to you if you stop.” Stiles looks over his shoulder with hooded eyes. “Unspeakable things.” He clarifies, “And not the good kind. The illegal kind.” _

_ Derek grins at him and puts himself back to work.  _

_ A few moments later Stiles is grunting unintelligently toward the TV. “What the fuck just happened? Did he get away?” Another moment passes and Stiles rolls his hips against Derek’s mouth. “Fuck, Derek, I can’t focus.” _

_ Derek pulls away, letting a second finger slide in. “I’ve seen this program, I can just tell you.” _

_ Stiles fights with himself as he buries his face in his pillow, shoulders bunching, and hips jutting.  _

_ Derek returns to work and soon starts to feel Stiles trembling below him, on the edge of release. Derek forces his tongue deeper, and his fingers locate Stiles’ prostate without trouble, while he rolls Stiles’ balls in his other hand.  _

_ Not even ten seconds pass and Stiles comes with a shout and sobs his way through it.  _

_ Derek crawls up Stiles’ back, licking sweat from his skin and humming.  _

_ Stiles lies flat against the bed as he tries to even out his harsh breathing, and Derek settles himself over him, kissing across his shoulders and temple. “I don’t know how I came again so fast. Holy shit.” Stiles mumbles with a smile. _

_ Derek noses at Stiles hairline, pleased with himself.  _

_ Stiles opens his eyes and locates Derek’s hand to lace his fingers through. “I love you.” Stiles whispers against his knuckles before he kisses them.  _

_ Derek squeezes Stiles’ hand and buries his nose in his neck. “I love you.”  _

_ Stiles cranes his neck until Derek meets his lips, and they kiss slow and easy for a moment. When Stiles can’t hold his head up anymore, Derek follows his descent back to the pillow and cushions himself the crook of Stiles shoulder.  _

_ Derek drags his thumb back and forth across Stiles largest knuckle, thinking about how perfect this moment is and how he never wants to leave it. _

_ “Maybe I should play hooky tomorrow.” Stiles muses. “Call in. No one would miss me.” _

_ Derek rubs his beard against Stiles’ shoulder. “You and I both know you can’t do that.” _

_ Stiles pouts below him. “As cliche’ as it sounds, I would give it all up for you, you know that, right?” _

_ Derek’s heart constricts because he knows that Stiles is telling the truth.  _

_ Stiles doesn’t wait for confirmation from Derek. “Promise me something.” _

_ “Anything.” Derek mumbles into Stiles’ skin. _

_ Stiles’ eyes focus on their linked hands in front of his face. “Promise me that no matter what happens after we tell Kate, that it won’t change us. That this doesn’t change.” Stiles squeezes his hand tighter.  _

_ Derek pretends to roll the requested promise around in his head, but the answer is a resounding yes. After another moment's pause, Derek noses at Stiles’ ear. “I’m not going anywhere.” _

_ Stiles smiles softly before it splits into a full tooth smile, he cranes his head around until he decides he’s recovered from his orgasm, and decides to roll over completely and blanket Derek with his own body instead. “Good.” Stiles jokes, locking his mouth onto Derek’s collar. “Because I am never letting go.” _

_ Derek stretches his head back and revels in the pressure of Stiles above him, and his attention focussed solely on him. He lets himself pretend that this is their life, that there aren’t dangers outside of their bunk, or hotel rooms, and that they can show their affection like this no matter where they are. _

_ One day. Derek tells himself. One day. _

* * *

 

Derek doesn’t get much sleep that night, and if he rubs one or two out, it’s no one’s business but his own.

* * *

 

 

Derek has been nursing the worst hangover of his life for the last five hours and Erica’s constant chatter isn’t helping matters. Derek really wants to open the far window and throw her out onto the highway, but he knows that’s just the migraine talking. 

He stands to walk away from her to locate more pain pills to fight the hangover, and Boyd comes up next to him with another bottle of water.

“Look,” Erica continues. “I know you’re nursing a monster of a hangover, but I’m not going to shut up until you tell me what happened because Boyd won’t tell me what happened in that hotel room.”

Boyd sits back down with a hard glare. “That’s because it’s not your business.”

Derek tries to thank Boyd with a small smile before he sits back down as well.

“Derek, i’m one of your best friends tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Derek tries, because he really doesn’t. As much as he’s trying to ignore reality it keeps forcing its way in, like last night with Stiles bringing his drunk ass back to the bus. “And for someone who broke Stiles’ nose, you didn’t seem to have too much of a problem with letting him drag me back here last night so you guys could party longer.” Derek glares at her.

“That’s not fair.” She levels back. “Your mom is seriously scary and she gave me the scariest look when I tried to fight Stiles on it.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but understands how scary his mom can be. He thinks about everything his mom, Laura, Cora, and Peter told him yesterday and decides not to talk to any of them for awhile. He knows they mean well, but he just  _ can’t _ forgive Stiles, can’t think about how genuine their past may have been, because every time he thinks about their past he runs into a black hole. 

Derek can’t remember, and it hurts every time he tries. He just wants to move past his accident. He thought he had, but now he has to look at a group of people every day that make him think about his injury and it sucks. He just wants to  _ move on. _

“Derek!” Erica shouts. “Come on! Tell me!”

“Stop.” Derek frowns at her. “You have no right to demand anything from me.”

She rightfully looks ashamed of her hours of demands, but she still continues. “I know. You’re right. But I’m worried.”

“If I don’t tell you, are you going to break my nose too?” Derek says grumpily, and where did that come from?

“What?” Erica gasps, leaning back. “Derek, I didn’t mean to break his nose, but he deserved it!”

Derek cuts his eyes back toward her. “Why? Because he told you he did?”

“No-” she starts, but Derek doesn’t want to hear it. He should just give up on ignoring everything. 

Derek cuts her off quickly to stop the flashes of his dream the night before. “No, Erica. You ran in there after reading Kate’s article, saw an excuse to hurt him, and you did.”

“Maybe, but-” 

Derek doesn’t listen to her arguments as flashes of Stiles broken nose sear his eyelids, and more flashes of his dream the night before plagues him. 

Suddenly it hits him. 

The dreams he has been having since he found Stiles might not just be dreams, but memories? Derek cuts Erica off again to keep himself of investigating that possibility.

“If anyone had any right to hurt Stiles, it was  _ me. _ ” Derek clarifies, and Erica locks her lips down. “This has nothing to do with any of you. If I want to talk about it, I will let you all know, but for now I just want to focus on the tour and making a name for us so we can move the fuck on.” 

Erica nods once, finally conceding. 

“I just want to move on from anything involving my accident. So can we all agree to just drop it?” Derek looks around with a raised brow, his head pounding, and his ears ringing.

“Yea. Okay.” Erica agrees with crossed arms, looking out the window. “But just answer one thing since you aren’t giving me anything else.”

Derek growls at her.

“Or don’t, but I just need to know.” She swallows. “Do you think he ever  _ really  _ loved you?”

Derek stands and steadies his gaze on the trees passing on the other side of the bus’ windows. He runs through what everyone has told him, what happened last night, Stiles’ song the night before, and the dreams Derek has been having. “Yes.” He finally admits out loud, but most importantly, to himself.

Thankfully, Erica doesn’t pester anymore, and Derek crawls into his bunk and tried to sleep off the remainder of the hangover before they get to the next arena.

* * *

 

Stiles tries not to let the events of the night before run away with him, because Derek asked him to stay. Actually  _ stay _ . Stiles didn’t expect anything like that, especially not this soon. All hope isn’t lost. Derek is just hurt. 

Stiles also has opened his eyes enough to realize that he’s not the only one hurting. Allison, Isaac, Lydia, and Scott all lost Derek again too. Stiles decides his first line of action is to make sure Derek knows that they didn’t do anything wrong, and that they still care about him and miss him too. Always have.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to make the first move on that front because Scott beats him to it by adding a song to the set list.

* * *

 

Scott introduces the song once he sees Derek settle at the side of the stage with a cigarette since the arena is outside. “We wrote this next song after we all lost a very dear friend of ours, and we have had the chance to reignite that friendship this last year. Unfortunately, we are all idiots, and messed it up. So we want to play this song and try to clarify how important you are to us.”

Stiles hides a smile at Scott’s slip as he looks at Derek off stage. Now the audience knows exactly who this song is for. Good going, Scotty.

Scott blinks when he realizes that he addressed Derek, and tries to rectify the situation. “So yea, if any of you know what it’s like to lose a friend, then let’s all sing this loud enough for them hear us where ever they may be!”

The music starts and Stiles rotates his neck, running the lyrics through his mind. Finally the first verse comes and Stiles sits on one of the speakers at the front of the stage. 

“[Landing on a runway in Chicago ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwKzVd0VoMQ) _ and I'm grounding all my dreams of ever really seeing California, because I know what's in between is something sensual in such non-conventional ways. _ ” Stiles tries not to allow the words in, because he had allowed himself to believe this was all in the past, that Derek was back. This line was about how he never felt he could go home because Derek was his  _ home _ and Derek was gone.

Stiles clears his mind and fist pumps at the audience to get them amped up. “ _ Tonight the headphones will deliver you the words that I can't say!”  _ The crowd echoes the line right back.

_ “Tonight I'm writing you a million miles away!” _ Stiles sings, barely glancing back to make sure Derek hasn’t run off.  _ “Tonight is all about ‘We miss you’!”  _

His friends all echo.  _ “Miss you.” _

_ "We miss you"  _

_ “Miss you.”  _ All eyes turn to Derek for a moment.

Stiles clarifies one more time his intent.  _ “Tonight is all about ‘We miss you’” _ Stiles trails a finger across the stage indicating his friends.

Derek rolls his eyes, but nods his understanding, whether or not he plans to do anything about it is up to him.

_ “And I can't forget your style or your cynicism.”  _ Stiles smirks over at him, and Derek scoffs with an exhale of his cigarette.  _ “Somehow it was like you were the first to listen to everything we said.” _

Erica walks over to stand next to Derek, but for the first time Stiles doesn’t see anger behind her eyes, but concern as she looks between the two of them.

_ “My smile's an open wound without you.” _ Stiles continues, mustering the biggest smile he can, the fakest of smiles to prove his point.  _ “And my hands are tied to pages inked to bring you back.”  _ Stiles looks back toward the audience, his fists flying in the air to try and keep the energy up in the arena. 

Stiles listens to the audience and his friends cry over the words  _ ‘miss you’ _ over and over and Stiles can’t remember the last time all of their voices were so heavy with emotion.

Scott stands up and Isaac comes to stand next to Stiles as they raise their arms in the air to start clapping.  _ “These friends are, new friends are golden!” _ Scott, Lydia, and Isaac repeat the line again, the crowd chanting right back.

Stiles looks back toward Derek who’s eyes are glued to Scott. 

_ “These friends are, new friends are golden.”  _ Stiles sings along, watching Derek though Isaac’s legs.  _ “These friends are, new friends are!”  _

Stiles isn’t sure how well he sings the rest of the song because all he can think about is how confused Derek must be, and how there isn’t anything Stiles can do to make it all okay again.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS FIC JUST PASSED 200K!! HOLY SHEETS AND PILLOWS, BATMAN! 
> 
> I am literally speachless. When I started this fic, I never imagined it would be this big, or so intense, or would be liked by so many people! THis is truly humbling, and I love every one of you for supporting me in this. 
> 
> Also, I haven't updated the tags in a long time... and I try to make sure I tag any kinks or triggers, but let's be honest - I am losing control of my life. So if any of you see anything missing, please let me know. :)
> 
> Luh ya, cuties :*


	24. FLASHBACK: The promises are made if you just hold on.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback Chapy Chap!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Enjoy!
> 
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

**6 months before the accident.**

* * *

 

Stiles flips through the few channels provided by the hotel while he waits for Derek. He’s picking up food so they can make a pillow fort and cuddle as though they don’t have to emerge any time soon and rejoin society. 

Stiles has learned to accept his and Derek’s secret affair. It’s tough knowing that he can’t go out to a club with his friends and dance with Derek, Stiles isn’t even sure Derek can or  _ would  _ dance, but damn, does Stiles want to find out. Well, Stiles has seen Derek dance, but it’s always in a joking way, and Stiles wants to find out if Derek would dance with him, like  _ really _ dance with him. 

Stiles lets out another sigh as he punches a button on the remote.

When they itch to come clean and tell Kate, they have to face the fact that even if they tell Kate, they still can’t go out in public together because Stiles’ contract forbids any same sex activities. 

Stiles feels the pit of his stomach come to a simmer at how he’s not allowed a true relationship, but they are encouraged to bait the fans within the band. 

He’s shipped with all three of his friends and he has to keep all of the fandom’s happy and not discredit any of them out right, but also maintain a very  _ hetero _ persona. 

Stiles has nothing against being shipped with his friends because if he’s being honest he ships them all too, but in a completely platonic way. 

He watches the clock tick, his stomach boiling with rage that has no outlet. He just wants to have a normal relationship with Derek. He wants to go out on dates, and do all the other cute shit that dating someone entails. 

Now, belatedly, Stiles realizes this is the exact  _ wrong  _ minute to think about  _ why  _ Derek isn’t in bed with him right now. 

Kate has had her claws in Derek all day going to different agencies around LA. He said that as soon as she decided he was of no more use to her, he would pick up Thai, and come back to the hotel where they would ignore reality and cuddle. Stiles smiles at the memory of Derek’s promise this morning before he left. 

Stiles is still waiting. They don’t have a show tonight so Stiles has been alone in the hotel all day and it’s almost six. 

When Derek spends this much time with Kate, Stiles always finds himself doubting the stability of their relationship. 

He pulls out his phone to look at their pictures like Scott has told him to do when he doubts Derek’s feelings. He scans through the pictures, tracing Derek’s smile lines, and exposed teeth with his eyes. He closes his eyes remembering how Derek looks when he smiles like this only inches from his face. How his eyes glisten and the ring around his iris’ grow darker in comparison to the light.

Stiles laughs at how cliche’ his thoughts are right now, but he excuses himself because of how fragile their relationship is. He just needs this to last. He wants them to have a chance.

After he sets a new picture for Derek’s contact photo, he pulls out his guitar and starts strumming a few chords that have been playing around in his mind for the last week, he just hasn’t decided what lyrics to put to them. 

* * *

 

Kate has finally put Derek in a cab to head back to the hotel, with the reminder that she will meet them in San Diego in a few days, when his phone rings. Derek sags with relief when he sees it’s Stiles. Derek motions his pack of cigarettes toward the cab driver and they nod their permission as they roll down his back window. 

“Hey Stiles. I just hopped in a cab, I’ll get food and be there soon.” Derek greets as he lights his cigarette.

There isn’t a response.

“Stiles? Can you hear me?” Derek asks a little louder.

Still no response. 

Just as Derek starts to worry that something is wrong, he hears a guitar string vibrate down the line. After a few more seconds he realizes Stiles is playing his guitar, but judging by how muffled it is, Stiles probably didn’t call Derek on purpose, and his phone is rolled up in the comforter. 

Derek knows this is where he should hang up and give Stiles his privacy, but Derek loves listening to Stiles play. He decides to allow himself a few minutes before he disconnects, it’s been a long day away from him.

Stiles plays a series of chords over and over, tuning his guitar a few times, humming with the notes. 

Derek closes his eyes and lets the sound relax his shoulders after the white knuckled day he’s had. It’s not that he had to  _ do  _ anything, per se, but he had to pretend he was still in love with Kate so that she wouldn’t suspect, and that is getting harder every time they are together. At this point, Derek can’t even remember why he thought he could make things work with Kate and actually live out any kind of Happily Ever After. 

Derek asks the driver to stop for Thai so that he can pick something up as promised, and then tunes back into Stiles on the line. Derek freezes when he realizes that Stiles may have heard him talking to the driver and knows that Derek has been listening, because he hears Stiles’ voice, but after another moment of listening, Derek realizes Stiles is singing. 

He should really hang up, but he just  _ can’t. _

“[Wish I didn't I didn't I d](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NZUgqD2qs0) _ idn't I didn't I didn't I didn't I didn't - I don't just want to be a footnote in someone else's happiness.” _

Derek blinks, trying to determine what Stiles is saying. He should really hang up right now. Like  _ right now _ .

_ “Does your husband know the way that the sunshine gleams from your wedding band? Does he know the way, does he know the way, of the crickets that would convince me to call it a night?” _

Stiles repeats the few lines some more, ironing out vocals and rearranging them, and Derek takes the time to analyze the few lines he’s hearing on repeat. 

It doesn’t make much sense at first, because Derek is trying to tell himself that not everything is about himself, but his mind keeps coming back to their relationship. When he humors his thought and tries to connect the lyrics to their relationship his heart sinks. 

“No, Stiles!” Derek tries to call out to him, hoping Stiles will hear him and listen. “It’s not like that, never has been. I’ll be there soon, I promise.” Derek knows that Stiles isn’t hearing him as he continues playing and singing new lines. Derek knew Stiles couldn’t hear him to be honest, but he needed to say the words for his own ears. 

_ “The last time you came through, Oh darling I know what you're going through. The last time you came through… Oh darling, Oh darling, Oh darling…” _

Derek doesn’t even know what he orders, and throws himself back in the cab without finesse and slams his head against the side of the cab. After a quiet curse, Derek lifts the phone back to his ears to listen as Stiles sings the lines over and over, while he irons out some points of the song. If Derek hadn’t already witnessed Stiles working on new music, he knows that the sounds on the other end of the phone would sound like madness.

Derek lets the words sink in and it’s almost too much to handle with all the stress of his own day. 

Here he has been struggling over the fact that he doesn’t want to pretend anymore, and Stiles has been sitting in the hotel all day worried that he will be forgotten and that Derek will go back to Kate.

Derek can’t get to the hotel fast enough.

* * *

 

Stiles throws his guitar to the side when he hears the key card in the lock, and lunges from the mattress like a child on Christmas morning. Much like his younger years on mentioned holliday, he ends up tangled in the sheets and falls to the floor just as Derek walks in.

Derek sets the food on the table, but doesn’t say anything as he blinks at Stiles on the floor fighting vehemently with the comforter that has now decided to make Stiles it’s prisoner.

Stiles smiles through a gap in the blanket. “It seems you walked in just in time to see me assert my dominance over our bedding…” Stiles grunts as he spreads his arms in an attempt to find an opening out of his burrito. “It’s not working in my favor.” 

Derek doesn’t laugh, not even a giggle, and the worry that elicits does nothing to help Stiles free himself from his current captor.

“Derek, a little help here?” Stiles asks, trying to drag out some form of response from Derek so he’ll stop staring at him like he has two heads.

Derek steps forward and helps untangle Stiles, but doesn’t say anything.

Once Stiles is free, he stands up and takes Derek’s face in his hands, while he tries to maintain an easy smile and not let on to his own worry. “How was your day?” Stiles asks casually.

Derek lifts his hands to rest over Stiles’ on his face, closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath. “Fine.” is all he says in answer, then changes direction. “How was yours?”

Stiles doesn’t answer right away, because something is so far off he can’t pretend like nothing is wrong. He’s seen Derek plenty after days with Kate and he’s never like this. 

After an extended period with Kate, Derek’s return goes one of the following ways. 

  * Derek walks straight in and wrapps Stiles in a hug for approximately three minutes before talking.
  * He drags Stiles into a shower because he knows Stiles hates smelling Kate’s perfume on him.
  * Sometimes he takes a deep breath once the door closes and just caresses Stiles with his eyes from across the room, which always gives Stiles the best kind of warm and fuzzies, and always ends in a good cuddle session.
  * Or if it was a bad trip, Derek will instigate a rather heated, and rough round of sexy times.
  * If it’s _really_ bad, Derek usually walks straight through the room to a window or balcony to light a cigarette and tries to relax before he says anything to Stiles.



This? What Derek is doing right now? This is new.

Derek traces Stiles’ knuckles with his thumb where they still rest on either side of his face. 

Stiles decides not to answer Derek’s question, and ask his again. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Derek answers with a shrug, scooting closer into Stiles’ space. 

“Don’t lie to me.” Stiles whispers. It’s the strongest point of their relationship. They don’t lie. They don’t omit truths. They talk about everything.

Derek’s eyes flash quickly across Stiles’ face and then fall. “Really, nothing happened.”

Stiles dares say his worst fear. “Is it me? Are you….”

Derek’s eyes go wide. “No, that’s not -  _ no.” _

Stiles stares at Derek a little longer, his hands sliding down Derek’s shoulders. 

Derek looks wrecked, and not in the good way. Like he’s conflicted, and seconds away from self destructing. 

“That’s it.” Stiles declares calmly, as he lets go and walks across the room to locate his pants. 

“That’s what?” Derek asks. 

“I’m not making you do this anymore. We’re going to go tell Kate, and we can handle the consequences after.” Stiles grunts as he pulls his pants on, hoping to get them over his ass faster. 

“You would do that?” Derek asks almost in awe.

Stiles freezes with his shirt half way over his head. “Of course.” Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek, has he really let himself believe that Stiles wouldn’t do  _ anything  _ for him? Stiles attempts to make that clear yet again. “Derek, I’ll do  _ anything _ for you, we’ve talked about this.”

Derek blinks at him, processing. 

After the prolonged silence Stiles breaks the silence, doubt creeping in. “Unless… are you wanting to … end… us?”

Derek rushes forward, “No, fuck. I’m doing this all wrong, and not using my words.” 

Stiles can see a hint of sass in Derek’s eye as he mocks Stiles choice of words in the past, but he’s strung so tight it only comes across as sheer panic.

Derek closes the distance between them and before Stiles can react to the emotion in Derek’s voice, Derek is slamming their lips together in a demanding kiss, his strong hands sliding down Stiles’ back and encompassing him in a warm embrace.. 

Stiles doesn’t fight it, and leans in, his hands tracing the lines in Derek’s biceps. He relaxes slightly, but he still doesn’t have an answer. Well, he knows that Derek doesn’t want to end things, but he still doesn’t know what is wrong. “So then what’s wrong?” Stiles asks against wet lips.

Derek takes a deep breath through his nose, their foreheads still pressed together. “You called me… I heard… and I spent all day… and then I get here and…”

Stiles doesn’t interrupt him, he just keeps up his slow deliberate caresses, finding pressure points and tries to make Derek relax from the outside in.

“I don’t - we don’t have to tell Kate.” Derek settles. 

Stiles nods, with his lip tucked between his teeth.

“It’s not - I was upset all day because I hate having to pretend, but we - I understand. We can’t tell her and still be together until your contract is renewed and you are able to have the sexuality clause removed.”

Stiles nods, their heads shifting together where they are still pressed at the forehead.

“I was stressed all day, trying to keep up a front for her, and then when I got in the cab, you called me.”

“I didn’t call you.” Stiles says quickly, suddenly even more lost. 

“You did, but you didn’t realize, and I should have hung up, but I didn’t.” Derek’s eyes dart to his left where he can see Stiles’ guitar where it was thrown on the bed.

It takes a minute for Stiles to realize Derek heard the stupid, angsty song he had been playing with. “No, Derek. I’m okay.”

“But you said -”

Stiles shakes his head, bumping his nose against Derek’s. “Doesn’t matter. I’m only human. I may seem like the the poster child for confidence on stage, but I still have insecurities. But I’m okay.”

Derek lets that settle in his mind before he responds. “I’m not leaving you. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Stiles has nothing to say that, so he closes the space between them and kisses Derek more gently than he has since Derek returned. 

Derek turns them and leads Stiles to the bed where he retrieves the offending blanket and sheet from the floor and curls himself around Stiles. They fall asleep listening to each other’s breathing.

* * *

 

Stiles wakes up thirty minutes later to Derek petting his hair. “We never even touched the food.” Stiles chuckles at the small grumble his stomach makes.. 

“Nope.” Derek grins, leaning over Stiles’ shoulder, and kissing him on the neck. 

Stiles looks around at the basic cream walls and minimalistic decor, hating the sight of it. They need a change of scenery. You would think that with traveling the world, things wouldn’t become so monotonous, but it does, quickly. All they see are venues, hotels, and the inside of their bus. 

An idea strikes Stiles and he shoots to a sitting position just barely glancing an apology down at Derek where he looks like he’s been doused in cold water, having been working a hickey into Stiles’ shoulder. 

“How do you feel about running away?” Stiles asks quickly, already rearranging himself to straddle Derek’s hips on the mattress. 

“You know we can’t do that.” Derek rolls his eyes, his hands coming to rest on Stiles’ thighs and Stiles already knows where his mind is headed.

“Not for real.” Stiles rolls his eyes down at him with a soft smile. “Beacon Hills is only about 2 hours from here, and I don’t have a show until tomorrow night. We could totally run, and no one would know until morning.”

“I don’t know…” Derek starts, ever the rational one.

“Please!” Stiles begs, leaning forward to pepper Derek’s face with tiny, needy, kisses. “I haven’t seen my dad since Christmas, and I need to check in to make sure he’s eating right-” Stiles continues rambling while he smothers Derek with kisses. 

“Okay!” Derek laughs finally, rolling them over and planting himself above Stiles. “But have you thought about  _ how  _ we are getting there? We don’t have a car.” He asks seriously.

“God, I miss Roscoe.” Stiles pouts. “It’s okay though. I learned to hotwire a car a long time ago.” Stiles fights to hold in his giggle at the way Derek’s face goes slack with shock. Stiles wiggles out from underneath him to start running around the room and pack. Luckily, he’s still dressed from earlier, so that eliminates one task from his list. 

After another minute Derek finally finds his voice, “We’re not  _ stealing a car! _ ” 

Stiles turns to find Derek trying to climb off the bed, bones heavy with fear that he’s fallen in love with a criminal. 

“Uhh, yea, we are.” Stiles says seriously. “Look around, do we have another option?” 

Derek’s jaw works as he tries to come up with an alternative. 

“Look, it’s stupid for us to keep a car on tour, all I have is the bus, which I can’t drive, can you?” Stiles raises a brow as he shoves their bottle of Vodka and orange juice into his bag. (Which he hasn’t had to replenish in a while, got them! Recovering alcoholics for the win!) 

Derek’s nose flares with frustration as he tries to think of an alternative. 

Stiles finally breaks, and his laughter bursts out of him like a swollen balloon. 

Derek glances over at the madness with wide eyes, which only makes Stiles laugh harder. 

“I’m kidding!” Stiles walks over, everything already packed. “We’re taking Finstock’s car.”

Derek narrows his eyes, but rests his hands on Stiles’ hips when Stiles slides into his space. “That’s still stealing.”

“Let’s look at it as borrowing, shall we?” Stiles teases.

“How are you even going to get your hands on the keys?” Derek asks, finally accepting that he’s not going to win this argument.

Stiles winks. “Just leave that part to me.”

* * *

 

Derek waits just inside the door of the front lobby when he hears tires squealing. A white Corolla comes to a screaming halt in front of the automatic doors, and the passenger door is flung open quickly. Stiles flings his arm toward Derek to hurry up and get in. 

Derek spares a quick glance around for any eyes that may be witnessing their crime, which Derek still doesn’t know how he let Stiles talk him into. Derek tries to look as natural as possible as he rushes out the front door and hurls himself into the passenger's seat. He’s barely buckled before Stiles is peeling out of the parking lot, and cackling like a maniac. 

Stiles navigates easily to the highway and hands Derek the auxiliary cord to get music playing. 

“Any requests?” Derek asks as he scrolls through his playlists on his phone.

Stiles flips him bedroom eyes, “Whatever your little heart desires, baby.” Stiles punctuates the sentiment with puckered lips and a wink, his nose flaring with his barely contained amusement.

Derek rolls his eyes, and does his best to hide an honest smile. Seeing Stiles mood make a complete 180 since the accidental phone call warms Derek’s heart. He selects his favorite playlist (aside from his  _ Fallout Shelter _ playlist. If he has purchased  _ Fallout’s  _ entire discography so far, that is no one’s business but his own.) and plays 90’s rock. 

Stiles’ fist damn near takes out the rear view mirror when  _ Nirvana’s [Smells Like Teen Spirit ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTWKbfoikeg) _ begins playing. Stiles flinches and looks toward Derek to see if he saw what almost happened, and Derek does his best to level an unimpressed glare at the delinquent. 

This causes Stiles to fall into a fit of giggles as he caresses the mirror and coo’s apologies toward the inanimate object.

The atmosphere in the car calms down a little after that. Stiles sets cruise control, and begins singing along to Kurt’s raspy lyrics, while he beats out Grohl’s drums on the steering wheel.

Derek adjusts his seat and settles into the corner of the chair and the door, his body slightly angled toward Stiles so he watch his profile as he sings along to the 90’s classics.

It’s well into the night, so there aren’t many other drivers on the road, and the yellow street lights dance patterns across Stiles’ skin. 

It’s like a dream that Derek doesn’t want to wake from.

In this moment, Stiles looks completely relaxed, and free. It’s beautiful and Derek wishes he could give this to Stiles all the time. 

Derek knows that a good percentage of Stiles calm is coming from the fact that he’s going home and he can check on his dad, but Derek lets himself believe it has quite a bit to do with him too.

He realizes he can’t remember the last time he was this relaxed, even though there is that little voice mumbling in the back of his mind about how he’s just committed a felony, at  _ least _ . If Derek knows Finstock, it’s that he won’t take kindly to someone running off with his car. 

There’s just something about the feeling of running away, the adrenaline, the relief, the plethora of possibilities, it’s incredible actually.

The music changes again and Stiles’ previous dance moves immediately go limp as his body starts to sway languidly to _Sublime’s_ [What I Got.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Uc3ZrmhDN4) Derek grins, eyes still glued to Stiles, enjoying the easy movement, and the happiness radiating from Stiles entire being. 

Derek realizes too late that his heart rate has sped up slightly, and there may be some blood rushing south, if he’s being honest. 

Stiles must hear a quick intake of breath because his eyes dart toward Derek, with a tinge of worry like Derek might be freaking out. 

When their eyes lock, Derek feels his cheeks heat, and Stiles’ lips tick up in a knowing way, but he doesn’t say anything about it. 

Stiles returns his eyes to the road, but switches driving hands and reaches across the console to lace his fingers with Derek’s. “Anything in particular you wanna do when we get to home?”

Derek swallows, trying to redirect his mind from his first thought of dragging Stiles up to his old bedroom and taking him apart. “Haven’t really thought that far.” Derek lies, dragging his thumb along Stiles’ largest knuckle.

Stiles slips his eyes toward Derek momentarily, before a gentle smile caresses his face with a hum. “Well let me know if anything comes to mind. You know how rare it is for us to make it home, so I want to at least see my dad.” 

“I figured as much.” Derek grins, “I should text my mom and see if she’s home.” 

Stiles goes to release Derek’s hand so he can text his mother, but Derek squeezes his hand tighter and pulls out his phone with one hand before typing out a quick message. Stiles’ eyes dart between Derek’s task and the road, his mouth opening slightly. “I will never get over how talented those hands are.” 

Derek feels himself blush, but doesn’t respond, only returns the phone to his pocket and continues caressing Stiles’ knuckles with his thumb. They fall back into silence, the only sound being the radio, and Stiles singing along leisurely. 

Derek suddenly realizes that the last time they were both in Beacon Hills they weren’t able to be seen together, does that mean that Stiles is going to drop Derek off at his house and then spend the night with his dad and pick him up the next day? He finds himself squeezing Stiles’ hand tighter, not wanting to part ways, he didn’t think this all the way through, or at all really. 

He tries to come up with ways to ensure Stiles won’t leave the second they get into town, when suddenly it hits him. 

“Do you want to meet my family?”

Stiles eyes go incredibly wide, and his head turns slowly. 

Derek swallows, worrying if he read their entire relationship wrong.

Stiles blinks, and swallows a few times. “Are you- really?”

Derek nods once.

“Uhmm..” Stiles stares, eyes going back to the road, his jaw clenched.

Derek tries to backpedal, he definitely read something wrong. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I was just, ya know. I don’t know. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Derek finishes dumbly. 

“No!” Stiles shakes his head quickly. “No,” Stiles glances at Derek with a soft expression. “I’d love to meet your family, you just caught me off guard, and I didn’t realize you might want me to, and I’ve never been asked to meet the family before, and I just short circuited for a second. I’m okay now though- just needed a minute to reboot.”

Derek chuckles lightly as Stiles continues to babble every thought that crosses his mind. 

“Now I kind of feel like an ass for not asking if you wanted to meet my dad, do you want to meet him? He may be the sheriff but he won’t shoot you, I promise. He already knows about you, I talked about you while we were down for Christmas, but I didn’t tell him the part about Kate, because - you know.”

Derek blushes at how early on that was, and is flattered that Stiles wanted to share their relationship with his dad. 

“Oh, Shit! What about your family? They all think you are still with Kate, do they even know that you like guys? This is going to get really awkward, really fast - shit, it’s okay. Totally okay, we pretend to just be friends all the time, what makes this any different?” Stiles takes a breath finally, but then his voice rises as he continues. “No, what makes this different is it’s your fucking family, and I don’t want my first impression to be full of lies, and we can’t tell them the truth because then they are going to see me as a home wrecker. Fuck. Shit. Goddamn.” Stiles takes another breath. “ShitGoddamn.”

“Stiles.” Derek reaches over, temporarily releasing his hand to squeeze his shoulder and rub a soothing circle into his neck. “It’s going to be okay.” Derek understands his fear, but he hates that he’s accidentally worked Stiles into a panic.

“How?” Stiles asks as the tension drains from his shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Derek answers honestly. “But we’ll figure it out.”

After a moment of contemplation Stiles breathes an “Okay.”

Derek slides his hand back down Stiles’ arm, kneading the muscles as he goes before his hand laces between Stiles’ fingers again and rest the back of his hand on Stiles’ thigh. “It won’t always be like this.” Derek reassures, needing the last few remaining lines to dissolve around Stiles’ eyes.

Stiles looks back over at him. “Promise?”

Derek offers a small smile and slides his thumb forcefully across Stiles’ knuckle. “I promise.”

* * *

 

Turns out they worried over nothing because Derek’s house is empty when they pull into the driveway. They are debating on whether or not to go inside when Derek finally gets a response from his mom. The whole house went out of town for Tyler’s away game and decided to stay in a hotel so they aren’t coming home tonight. 

As disappointing as it is not to see them, they’re both relieved because they weren’t really prepared. 

They head to the Sheriff Station next, and Stiles leaves Derek in the car to run inside and see if his dad is working. 

Derek has closed his eyes as he listens to  _ Matchbox Twenty,  _ one of his favorite bands, when his phone rings. Derek assumes it’s his mother, or maybe Laura calling to say ‘hi’ since they missed him. The pit of his stomach falls the second he reads Kate’s name.

“Hello?” Derek answers, watching the front door of the station in case Stiles come hurdling toward the car, and could possibly say something loud enough for Kate to hear. 

“Derek, I’ve been calling your room for two hours. Where are you?” She asks abrasively.

Derek considers his excuses, the last thing he would ever tell her being the truth. He could say he’s in one of the bands’ rooms, but what if she already called them? He could say he’s in the hotel bar, but what if she called the front desk? “I’m on the roof with the band, it’s a nice night and we got an employe to unlock the door.” Derek prays, belatedly, that she isn’t planning on dropping by tonight.

“Oh.” She answers quickly, feathers lying back down. “Okay. I was just calling to tell you that the Lang’s invited us over for dinner tomorrow night.”

Derek sighs in relief. “What time?” He asks in his most business like tone.

They settle the details so Derek knows when to be ready the next day, and unfortunately it seems he will be missing the show tomorrow, but he can make that up to Stiles tonight.

A few minutes pass before Stiles is coming back out of the station, and an older man follows him while talking on a phone. Derek realizes it’s his father when he pulls the phone away from his ear and wraps Stiles in a tight hug. His father lifts his eyes to Derek after they pull apart and offers a nod in his direction before saying something to Stiles and walking toward a cruiser.

Stiles watches his dad drive away and then climbs into the driver's seat. “He’s working the night shift so some of his deputies can be at home with their families, and he would have stayed to talk but he was just called out.” Stiles explains as he snaps his seatbelt on. 

Derek nods, running the night’s plans through his head. “So, are we going to head back to the hotel then? Since he won’t be home?”

Stiles scoffs, “No. It’s still my home.” Stiles turns a mischievous eye Derek’s way. “And tonight we’re playing house.”

Derek grins at him, excited for the turn of events. ‘Playing house’ sounds like a lot more fun than ‘meet the parents’.

Stiles grabs Derek by his collar and pulls him halfway across the front seat so he can seal their mouths with a searing kiss. “God, I was dying for that.” Stiles breathes across wet lips. 

They separate and Stiles heads toward his house, and Derek decides to get his and Kate’s phone call out of the way, and tells Stiles that he has to go to a dinner meeting tomorrow and won’t be able to see the show.

Stiles’ face falls a moment. “Just come back to me as soon as you can.” Stiles says, trying to hide his disappointment, like always, and squeezes Derek’s knee.

Derek places his hand over Stiles’. “I always do.”

* * *

 

“I knew there was a reason I loved you.” Stiles groans as Derek places the forgotten bag of Thai take out on the kitchen table after they finish unloading the car. 

They were careful when they got to Stiles’ house. It’s just past midnight, but just in case someone had seen Stiles at the station and alerted the local media that he was home, Derek ducked down over Stiles’ lap (which was just a hair shy of exciting Stiles in a very inappropriate way) and stayed hidden until they were closed in the garage.

Stiles wasn’t kidding either about playing house tonight either, so he goes about adjusting the air conditioning since his dad still turns off the thermostat when he leaves for a shift, because the Sheriff's salary isn’t going to break the bank any time soon. Stiles has told him numerous times not to worry about pinching pennies because he’s more than happy to support him, and that he can retire whenever he wants too, but his dad is just as hard headed as he is.

Stiles instructs Derek to a seat at the table and pulls down plates for the food, and fills glasses of water for their meal. 

Derek only stays seated for a moment before he’s hopping up and reheating food to be dished out onto the plates. 

Stiles doesn’t even bother trying to tell him to sit back down, because the sight of Derek working next to him in the kitchen makes his chest constrict in the best way. Once Stiles deems the table is set to his standards he slides up behind Derek at the microwave and wrapps his arms around his waist. 

Derek leans back into the embrace and releases a sigh of content that matches Stiles’.

Stiles buries his nose in Derek’s neck and takes a deep breath. If only they could have this. 

Derek pets his hands until the small machine beeps with completion, and slowly turns their bodies back toward the table to finish setting it. During the trek, Stiles doesn’t loosen his grip for a second. He just wants to glue himself to Derek’s back and never let go. 

Derek realizes after he’s set the food, that Stiles isn’t planning on letting go anytime soon, so he twists in Stiles arms, to wrap his own in return.

They hold eye contact for a moment, no words possible to describe their affection in this moment, and Stiles drops his head to rest against Derek’s shoulder. 

Derek tightens his hold, and rubs a stripe on Stiles’ back, both of them humming in their private moment. 

Eventually, Derek leads Stiles to his seat and makes him sit down to eat before they have to reheat the food again. 

Stiles digs in without finesse after the first bite makes his hunger evident. 

Derek, as always, remains poised, and eats carefully as he starts up a conversation. 

“Was your dad surprised to see you?”

Stiles laughs through a mouthful of food. “Oh, yeah.” Stiles chews before elaborating. “He demands I give him a heads up every time I come to town, but that’s only because he has to hide the evidence of his obscene diet. When I walked into his office tonight there was a basket of fries on his desk and a few fast food bags in his trash. He knows he’s in trouble.”

Derek laughs at that, already familiar with Stiles’ obsession with his dad’s diet, and how every time they talk they always do this same song and dance. He understands Stiles’ worry though. 

Stiles looks around at the quiet house, smiling to himself, and happy to be home. 

“One day.” Derek says, pulling Stiles out of his quiet reverie.

“One day, what?” Stiles asks, chewing another mouthful.

Derek chews for a second before lifting his eyes back to Stiles. “One day you will have this. A home, a place to make your own memories with who you want.”

Stiles doesn’t know what to say to that so he only smiles, because he doesn’t know if he and Derek are to the point of planning a real future together, for now it’s just the hope for a future past his next contract renewal.

Derek pushes the noodles around on his place. “I-” He clears his throat again. “I want to give that to you one day.”

All of Stiles’ insecurities drain right out of him. Apparently they  _ are _ at the point of planning a future. Derek is in this as much as Stiles is. But there’s still a problem with what Derek is offering. 

“I would love that, I love you, but I could never ask you to a house wife while I tour for the most part of a year. It wouldn’t be fair to you.” Stiles says seriously, having never really considered a possibility of having a true home to go home to. He generally comes home to his dad, or stays in his condo in LA. 

Derek shakes his head, “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” Stiles argues, his fork hanging limply in his hand. “We’ve talked about this, I thought we were past it. I want  _ you _ to get everything you want, and I won’t let you follow me around and do things just because that’s what you think I want.  _ You _ need to know what  _ you _ want. Finish your degree, get a big time job, ya know? Do things for  _ you. _ ”

Derek smiles at him, like Stiles just said exactly what he expected. “I  _ want you _ .” 

Stiles starts to tell Derek he already has him when Derek continues. 

“I want you to be happy, because seeing you happy and knowing I am doing it, makes me happy. You aren’t and won’t hold me back from my ambitions, so stop worrying about that.”

Stiles swallows not sure what he’s supposed to say to that.

“I  _ want  _ to get a house with you. I  _ want  _ to keep it warm while you work. I  _ want  _ to visit you on tour. I  _ want  _ you to come home to me. I  _ want  _ you to be  _ happy _ .” 

“Derek…”

“I understand if you aren’t to that point yet, but I _want_ to make my intentions clear. I’m not going anywhere. I _want_ _you_.”

Stiles barely resists an eye roll at how Derek is using the word ‘want’ to his favor. Every time they get in an argument about Derek doing things  _ he _ wants, Derek says he  _ wants  _ things as much as possible so that Stiles won’t argue, because Stiles  _ literally _ told him to want things, so if he knocks them down he’s contradicting himself.

“Jesus Christ, Derek. I am going to take you right here on my father’s table.” 

Derek smiles at that and stands to start clearing the table, trying to hide his blush as much as possible. 

Stiles falls into a daze watching Derek’s shoulders flex with his movement of scraping the plates of food into the trash. 

It still blows his mind that he has Derek, and what is even more unbelievable is that Kate had him and didn’t realize how fucking amazing he is. Stiles can’t even pretend to be upset by that at this point, because if Kate had treated him like the King he is, Stiles would have never gotten the opportunity to have him in the first place.

Stiles stands up and warms up the tap so he can rinse their dishes and load them into the dishwasher and Derek slides up behind him much like Stiles had done to him at the microwave. Only this time, instead of humming into his neck, Derek is biting very telling kisses into the tendon of his neck. 

Stiles feels his skin flush, and tightens his grip on the plate so he doesn’t drop it.

Derek doesn’t stop and after Stiles has placed the last dish into the dishwasher, Derek flips Stiles around and lifts him up onto the edge of the counter in one quick motion. 

Stiles lets out a yelp at the sudden movement, but quickly drapes his arms around Derek’s shoulders and spreads his legs for Derek to slide further between. 

Derek bumps his nose against Stiles’, a precursor to what is sure to come, before he pulls Stiles by the small of his back, and plasters them together in a searing line of heat. 

Stiles wraps his legs around Derek and kisses him with fervor. Stiles is aware that the way Derek consumes his mind every second of every day is extremely unhealthy, but he can’t be bothered to try and distance himself because he knows at any second Derek can be ripped away from him if Kate found out before they can change his contract. 

After their conversation at dinner, Stiles isn’t worried about Derek going back to Kate or deciding that Stiles isn’t really what he wants, because he made it pretty damn clear he has no intention of going anywhere. 

Stiles can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

Just a handful of months before his contract comes up for renewal, and then he and Derek can finally get their footing and plan a future. 

Stiles moans into Derek’s mouth at the thought.

This must excite Derek further because a searing line of heat connects with his own, and wow, this is intense. Stiles tries to figure out what is making this encounter different than most others, and it all goes back to playing house, and the conversation they had about their future. 

Stiles eyes pop open when he realizes he and Derek kind of just got engaged, unofficially, but in the ‘I want to be with you forever and no one else can have you’, kind of way.

Stiles reboots and brings his hands to Derek’s cheeks as he slows down the kiss, chastening it, treating Derek like he’s the most precious being in his world, because he fucking is, and Stiles is never letting this fake engagement go. Nope.

Derek dials the heat down, and matches Stiles actions, his warm palms caressing the outside of Stiles’ thighs on either side of his hips. 

Stiles pulls his lips back, his forehead still resting against Derek’s, and bumps their nose once. “You go on upstairs, and I’ll put the house to bed.”

Derek looks like he might argue, so Stiles offers incentive. 

“After I’ve put the house to bed, you can put  _ me _ to bed.” Stiles winks.

A sly grin appears across Derek’s cheek before he nods, bumps their nose, pecks Stiles on the lips, and drags himself backwards toward the stairs, already pulling his shirt off, and flexing for no other reason than to torture Stiles. 

“Fuck, me.” Stiles breathes staring after him. 

“That’s the idea.” Derek smiles, big and bright, before he turns and climbs the stairs, already working on his pants.

* * *

 

Once Stiles has finished cleaning up the kitchen and has checked all of the doors and windows (because old habits are hard to break), he finally heads up stairs with their few bags slung over his shoulders. 

Just as he’s pushing open his door he realizes that Derek has never been here before, what if he got lost? No, that’s stupid, how could get get lost in a house? “How did you find my room? I didn’t-” The words are strangled in his throat at the sight of Derek lying with his hands propped sinfully behind his head, and in nothing but black briefs. The way Derek has one foot tucked under the other knee, and putting his package on display is not only short circuiting his brain, but frying the entire system.

“I followed the smell.” Derek says with a sassy glint in his eye.

“Whuh?” Is all Stiles can produce as he tries to restore higher functions and remember what he asked Derek in the first place.  _ How did you find my room? - I followed the smell.  _ Stiles gasps, “Oh, hardy har har!” 

Derek laughs from his spot on the bed, widening his thighs just a tad to further destroy Stiles. 

Stiles pushes the rest of the way through the door and throws their bags on the floor. “Jackass.” He mutters under his breath as he plops down on the edge of the bed with his back to Derek so he can pull off his shoes and socks.

“You love me.” Derek breathes quietly into his ear, and Stiles flinches having not felt him get so close. 

“I do.” Stiles smiles, unable to lie even if he is acting as though Derek hurt his feelings, and turns his head to kiss Derek’s nose. 

Derek rolls his eyes, but there isn’t any irritation reflecting back at Stiles either. 

Stiles drops his leg when he gets his second sock off, and next thing he knows Derek is dragging his flannel shirt down his arms, and throwing it across the room. “What are you-?” Stiles giggles, goosebumps rising in Derek’s wake. 

Derek breathes a hot gust of air against Stiles’ temple, and slides his fingers under Stiles’ shirt to slide up and over his head. “I’m putting you to bed.”

“Yeah.” Stiles smiles, and closes his eyes, letting Derek maneuver him to his hearts desire. “Okay.” 

Derek tosses the shirt and then brings both arms around Stiles’ waist to start working on his fly, while he kisses constellations across Stiles shoulder blades, connecting his moles one kiss at a time.

Stiles leans his weight against Derek’s chest when the kisses make their venture up his neck and over his cheekbones. He’s not sure how it happens, but he ends up on his back with Derek pulling his pants off entirely. “I could get used to this.” Stiles moans honestly.

Derek smiles, “I don’t think I’ll ever be used to this.”

Stiles heart clenches at the promise of this never ending, and watches the light dance across Derek’s skin from the window above the bed. He can’t help but agree with him.

Derek crawls over him, bracketing him in and protecting him from the world. 

Stiles brackets from below and tries to feel as much like  _ home _ as Derek feels for him. He could be anywhere in the world, any bed, room, or vehicle, and as long as Derek is there, Stiles will feel like he’s  _ home _ .

* * *

 

Derek traces the lines between the moles spotting Stiles’ face and neck, the house silent aside from their slow breathing filling the room. Derek thrusts against Stiles below him to relieve the low burning in their abdomens. 

When the feeling of ‘more’ starts to become too much, Derek sits back on his heels and pulls Stiles’ boxers off slowly and drops them off the side of the bed. He remains in this position a moment to admire the long, lean lines of Stiles’ body and how he lies there ready and willing to take whatever Derek will give him.

Derek kisses a trail up Stiles’ stomach, teasing both nipples as he works his way back to Stiles’ mouth. 

Stiles wraps his whole body around Derek, silently begging for more.

“Is there still any lube in here?” Derek asks between a couple of slow lingering kisses. 

Stiles nods vigorously with hooded eyes and reaches out with one hand toward his night stand, but can’t quite reach.

Derek leans over, pulls the drawer open, and locates the small half empty bottle easily. He spreads some on his fingers so he can slide his hand between them and locate Stiles’ hole and step things up a notch. 

A choked sob spills from Stiles with the first swipe of Derek’s finger, and Stiles digs his fingers into Derek’s back so he can anchor himself to the moment.

Derek watches everything with rapt attention, cataloging every motion and sound, never wanting to let a moment fade from his memory. He thinks about the cliche about  _ every time feeling like the first time  _ with someone you love, which he always found to be an idealistic, romantic, point of view that wasn’t true, but nice the believe. 

Now he understands.

It’s not about it literally feeling like the first time, but a feeling of things never getting stale. Always knowing there is more, that literally nothing will ever be enough, but be just right at the same time. You will always feel the deep desire to be with them in a way you never have before, and then satisfying that itch entirely, and then after the low burn comes back, you do it all over again, and you are  _ never _ disappointed. You find every microscopic skin cell beautiful, and you always notice something new, and it’s like the first time.

Derek realizes he sounds crazy, that almost everything he’s thinking is the ramblings of a mad man. It’s true though, he’s absolutely mad about Stiles. It’s a miracle he’s having any sort of conscious thought with the way Stiles is undulating underneath him, begging for Derek to push further in, but Derek plans to take things a little slower tonight. 

Stiles never demands anything from Derek, in bed or out. Everything has always been at Derek’s speed, and Stiles never pushes. 

Derek flings himself forward at the thought, fingers finally plunging into Stiles, and captures Stiles’ surprised shout with his own lips, the vibrations traveling down his throat to his chest and warming his skin in a sinful way. 

Derek has never met anyone who cared for his happiness the way he has always cared about others’. Sure, Stiles always makes it clear, like earlier tonight, that Derek has to stop doing things just for other’s benefit, but Stiles is a hypocrite because he does the same exact thing. 

Just because Stiles has pursued a career in music, and feels he has more than anyone ever deserves, doesn’t mean he’s selfish. He still puts his band, his friends, and his father before himself. Hell, he puts his fans before himself too. 

Stiles is just like Derek, and insists on giving him everything he wants, so Derek is going to do his best to give it right back.

Stiles starts to break out into a sweat below him with how excruciatingly slow Derek is taking this, but he wants it to last, he wants to show Stiles how happy he makes him, and how there is absolutely no better place he’d rather be.

Stiles’ eyes lock with his, and the haze of lust fades from his eyes like he can read Derek’s thoughts. 

Derek fights a blush knowing that if Stiles really knew what he was thinking, that would be entirely too embarrassing. Derek keeps his movements up, trying to distract and act as though nothing is out of the ordinary. 

Stiles bites his lip with a particularly favored thrust of Derek’s finger, but smiles and makes sure Derek is looking back in his eyes before he says, “I love you too.” 

With that everything comes to a peak and Derek can’t get close enough. He wishes he could crawl inside Stiles’ skin and never leave, but that would be weird, and really gross, so Derek settles for the next best thing. 

He doesn’t even bother to sit up and remove his briefs entirely, he just pushes them down, slicks himself up, and pushes his way inside Stiles. 

“Oh my God.” Stiles moans, head thrown back, thighs spreading impossibly wide, and fingers tangled in Derek’s hair. “Fuck.”

Sparks are flying through every single fibre of Derek’s body and he can’t hold himself up anymore. He lies himself flat against Stiles, and buries his face in Stiles’ neck while Stiles holds onto the hair behind his ear.

“Come on, Derek.” Stiles breathes, and Derek finally finds the strength to pull back out and start some kind of rhythm. “Fuck, yes.” 

After that Stiles’ seems to lose all sense of the english language because all that falls from his mouth is a string of consonants and vowels that don’t actually form words. The sound is music to Derek’s ears. 

Derek makes the conscious decision not to take Stiles into his hand and jerk him in the same slow motions of his hips, because he wants this to last as long as possible. 

Stiles isn’t complaining in the slightest. 

They don’t get the chance to go slow often. Not with always worrying that they could get caught, busy schedules, and pure exhaustion due to said schedules. If Derek had the stamina, he would try and keep this going for hours, but he’s only human.

Stiles hands have finally left Derek’s hair and have traveled south toward Derek’s ass.

Derek bites down on Stiles’ ear when Stiles gets two handfuls of his ass.

Stiles moans a gutteral sound before finally finding words again. “I love - fuck - I love your  _ ass. _ ” Stiles punctuates with another squeeze and a slap. “I seriously need to book a hotel room with a mirror above the bed because I can only  _ imagine, _ or maybe make sure our future house has one installed - _ fuck!”  _

Derek thrusts abruptly, clenching his ass harder for Stiles’ benefit. He has no problem letting Stiles objectify him in the privacy of  _ their own home. _ Not to mention, the idea of being able to see Stiles’ ass flex as he fucks him into oblivion is something he has never imagined before, and God, yes, Derek is so on board with that.

Stiles moans with pleasure and one of his hands slide up to trace the muscles flexing in Derek’s back.

The tingle of their impending release starts to edge on too much and Derek can’t stop himself from speeding up his thrusts. He pushes himself up to brace himself on either side of Stiles’ shoulders for better purchase.

Stiles traces his hand down Derek’s arm and manages to wiggle his hand beneath Derek’s and lace their fingers together tightly, while he thrusts down to meet every one of Derek’s.

“Stiles...” Derek moans, latching onto Stiles’ lower lip to bite down on all the things he wants to say.

How he wants to beg Stiles to never leave him, to never change, to always love him. How great he feels inside him and to just be around him. It’s all too much.

Only a few minutes of their faster pace, and desperate pleas, and they both topple off the edge of a cliff and Derek can’t even pinpoint who went first. 

When things get too sensitive, Derek pulls out and collapses on top of Stiles while he regains his breathing. 

Stiles hums contentment, and threads his fingers through Derek’s hair, scratching his scalp.

They lie like that for lord knows how long before Stiles regains higher function and starts talking again. Which is a surprise to Derek, because Stiles usually passes out quickly after coming.

“You know that was the first time I ever had sex in this bed?” 

Derek barely lifts his head, peaking out of one eye to see if Stiles is joking.

“I’m serious.” Stiles chuckles. “I never had sex in here. It’s difficult to get away with certain things when your dad is the sheriff.”

Derek responds with a sleep heavy voice. “If I had known, I would have tried to make it more memorable.”

“Oh, it was.” Stiles smiles, craning his head to peck the corner of Derek’s mouth. “Fantastic. Record breaking. Phenomenal.” 

Derek cuts Stiles’ generous descriptions off with a firm kiss, and promises himself that he will be the only person Stiles  _ ever  _ sleeps with in this bed.

He has the first time already, and before morning he gets the second, third, and fourth time as well.

* * *

 

The sore muscles Stiles wakes up to the next morning are more than welcome after the night before. 

Derek decided he was going to tick off as many firsts in Stiles’ room as he could, because Stiles got Derek’s first time with a man and everything that comes with that, but Derek hadn’t gotten any of Stiles’ firsts. Stiles can’t remember a time he ever went through so many positions, and reversals in a single night. 

Stiles tried to reassure him that that was okay, and then tried to tell him that he had the only first that mattered. 

Derek is the first person to ever have his heart. That apparently didn’t count, and earned him a surprise wall fucking, because Derek was running out of physical firsts, so he extended to different surface firsts.

Stiles chuckles to himself as he rolls out of bed to clean up because they were so damn exhausted they only did a cursory swipe with tissues from a box that is at least five years old, the tissues practically disintegrated against them. 

As Stiles relieves himself, and warms up the water in the shower he decides to play house a little more before they have to head out.

Stiles is barely under the spray of the shower when Derek pulls back the curtain and climbs in, eyes still half closed, and as soon as he finds his footing in the shower, his eyes close again. 

Derek steps forward and wraps his arms around Stiles’ middle and rests his cheek against the nape of Stiles neck as Stiles uses an old bar of soap to wash his skin.

“You should have stayed in bed,” Stiles laughs, supporting the dead weight against his back. “You can barely stand and we don’t have to leave for a few hours.”

All Stiles gets as a response in return is a muffled grunt into his shoulder.

“Sorry, didn’t get that.” Stiles grins over his shoulder to see a squished face against his shoulder. “I’m just going to assume you said, “You’re right, like always, and I should never ever doubt you for the sake of my lively hood, ever.” 

A single eye pops open and Derek seems to have awoken enough to harbor some sass, because the single eye makes it very clear that that was not at all what he had attempted to say. 

Stiles laughs and turns back toward the spray to rinse off before he turns around and washes Derek next, who still isn’t supporting his own weight very well. 

With surprises to absolutely no one, things escalate. 

Stiles has to throw a hand over Derek’s mouth when the first moan slips out as Stiles slips a second finger inside Derek..

Derek looks at him confused, but remains lost in pleasure. 

Stiles smirks, but pecks a reassuring kiss to Derek’s nose. “I didn’t check to see if my dad was home.”

Derek flushes with that, but stays quiet, with only his mouth hanging open with silent cries, and fingers digging into Stiles wherever they make contact. With Derek debauched, and his leg hiked over Stiles hip, it only takes a few thrusts once Stiles is inside to have them both searching for quick release. The time for slow was almost over done the night before.

After they wash themselves for a second time, they finally shut off the almost room temperature water, and climb out. 

They grab two towels from under the cabinet and wrap themselves up, and when Stiles stands up and finally looks in the mirror he gasps.

“What?” Derek asks slightly alarmed through his sleep heavy voice.

Stiles looks between Derek, the mirror, and his skin. “What?! I look like I was fucking mauled by a bear!”

Stiles is covered with hickies, and beard burn, and god knows what else.

Derek smiles pleased from beside him.

Stiles points a strong finger at him. “As soon as we get things sorted out, and I can leave marks on you, you are  _ so _ going to get it.”

Derek shrugs, but the blush tells Stiles that he may actually be looking forward to that.

Stiles pulls out his old stash of spare toothbrushes and opens two for them, before retrieving the toothpaste from their bags because he doesn’t ever want to find out if toothpaste can go bad.

When Stiles comes back into the bathroom Derek is preparing to cover his toothbrush in said prehistoric tube, so Stiles does the only thing he can think to do, and knocks the tube rather harshly out of Derek’s hand.

Derek looks up in shock, his hand hovering between them like he’s been struck by fire.

Stiles can’t help but cackle and buckle over with the force of it. When he rights himself, Derek’s shock has dissolved into irritation, with two unimpressed, sleepy, green eyes staring back at him. “I’m sorry.” Stiles giggles, holding out their tube as explanation and a peace offering. “I don’t know how old that one is, that’s why I went and grabbed this.”

Understanding crosses Derek’s face, but he doesn’t say anything to reassure Stiles. His brows remain low and unamused as he speaks. “Well it’s rude to walk around slapping things out of people’s hands.”

Stiles barely holds his giggle in. “You’re just tired and cranky.”

“M’not” Derek mumbles around a foamy mouth as he brushes thoroughly. 

“Right, my mistake.” Stiles smiles as he loads up his brush to brush his own teeth. 

Derek’s sassy eye peeks over at him and Stiles knows he’s forgiven.

* * *

 

Stiles will admit his surprise at seeing Derek crawl across his childhood bed, and bury himself beneath the large comforter. Stiles was sure Derek was going to try and stay awake just to prove him wrong. 

Stiles doesn’t say anything as he gets dressed. When he makes his way to tuck Derek in for a few more hours, Derek is already fast asleep. 

Stiles finally checks to see if his dad is home and is sad to see that he’s not. Stiles doesn’t dwell because they didn’t plan this trip, so he can’t blame his dad for having to work.

Stiles is pulling out pans to fry eggs and bacon (that his dad definitely should not have in the fridge) when he hears the front door, and only a moment later his dad is standing in the kitchen with him. 

“I hoped you would still be here.” His dad sighs relief, but then he looks to the stove where Stiles is dropping bacon in a pan dramatically. Stiles can see the exact moment that his dad realizes he’s been caught. “I’m just going to go…” 

Stiles raises an eyebrow at the not so smooth exit, as his dad walks away, with a thumb over his shoulder, toward his room.

* * *

 

Stiles and his dad spend the next hour catching up, and picking at a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. It’s nice being home and feeling normal, and it’s so rare Stiles doesn’t have it in himself to deny his father some of the worst grease on the planet. 

“So you brought a boy home last night.” His dad says over crossed arms. 

Stiles flinches, as though he’s fifteen and being reprimanded when he realizes he’s a grown ass adult. He tells his dad as much.

His dad laughs good naturedly. “Well, where is he?” 

Stiles looks up the stairs. “He’s really tired, I was letting him sleep in.”

“This the same guy you were telling me about last Christmas?” His dad asks, sipping his mug of coffee.

“The one and only.” Stiles smiles.

“You got it bad, kid.” 

“What?” Stiles tries to fake indifference to throw his dad off his scent, because eventually he’s going to find out just  _ who  _ Derek is, and that Stiles should not be pursuing a  _ taken  _ man, especially not one from the prestigious  _ Hale  _ family. And oh,  _ God _ , things have just gotten a lot scarier. 

“This mystery man going to wake up any time soon?”

Stiles squares his shoulders, Derek was going to introduce him to his family last night, and it would be a dick move if he didn’t want to do the same. “Let me make him breakfast and then I’ll go grab him.”

“Not a morning person?” 

Stiles smiles, because he can’t lie to his dad and tell him that he’s not a morning person, because Derek is the closest thing to a morning person he’s ever seen. But he can’t tell his dad that the reason it’s so hard for him to get out of bed this morning is because he spent six hours sexing Stiles six ways from sunday last night.

* * *

 

Just as Stiles is heading to wake Derek up, his dad’s phone rings and he’s called into the station. Because of course.

Stiles hugs his dad goodbye, and promises to not go so long without visiting. 

“Tell him I said hello, and make sure you remind him that I have a gun.”

“Dad.” 

“What?”

“Go to work.” Stiles laughs opening the front door for his dad.

His dad stops for one last hug before he leaves. “Take care of yourself, son.”

* * *

 

After Derek has a full belly, and another orgasm on Stiles’ childhood couch, they pack up Finstock’s car and head to meet the bus on the road. 

Derek doesn’t complain when Stiles suggests he recline his seat all the way so they are less likely to be seen by the local media, and Stiles makes his way out of Beacon Hills as quickly as possible and slips onto the highway in no time.

Derek must finally be awake because he sits his seat up thirty minutes later and starts talking. “So has Finstock been blowing up your phone?”

Stiles looks over with pinched brows. “Why would he be?”

“Because we stole his car?” Derek looks at him like Stiles has grown a second head.

Stiles giggles, “No we didn’t.”

“Stiles.”

“What?”

“What makes you think this isn’t stealing?” Derek asks incredulously.

Stiles squints at him, “What makes you think it  _ is? _ ”

“You said we were going to steal a car, then you tried to tell me we were just going to borrow Finstock’s car, and you told me not to worry about how you got the keys. This is stealing.” 

Stiles can’t hold the giggle in anymore, he knew he set this up, but he honestly forgot over night that he hadn’t let the cat out of the bag. 

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because we didn’t  _ steal  _ a car, Derek. I promise.” 

Derek scowls at him from the other side of the car. 

“Really. Also, I never said we were stealing Finstock’s car. Yes, I said initially that I was going to hotwire a car, but then I told you I was joking, and that I was going to take Finstock’s car, when you accused me of stealing, I said borrowing. Because I’m just  _ borrowing _ .”

“Stealing keys doesn’t mean you didn’t steal a car.”

“You’re right, stealing keys is the same as stealing a car.” Stiles pauses and smiles. “But I didn’t steal the keys. So I didn’t steal the car.”

Derek scowls some more.

“Wow, you really are grumpy this morning. As much as I enjoyed being thoroughly sexed up last night, we may not need to make it a habit  if you wake up like this.”

“How’d you get the keys if you didn’t steal them then?” Derek asks, and by the looks of it, he is at his wits end.

Stiles pauses dramatically, and looks over at Derek with the biggest shit eating grin he can muster. “I  _ asked _ for them.”

Derek blinks.

“I didn’t steal the car. We didn’t break any law. I went to Finstock’s room and asked to borrow his car, the end.”

Derek blinks as his brain short circuits. 

Stiles just keeps smiling out the window at the stretch of highway in front of them.

Finally, Derek finds words again, and all Stiles gets is a sassy, “Don’t talk to me.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screams into pillow for the billionth time* 
> 
> I really am sorry this took so long to get out but I think you all should forgive me because it's at least 30% longer than normal coming in at a bountiful 11,182 word count. :D
> 
> This delay was caused by a murder close to me, and the last thing on my mind was writing, and when I tried it all got really dark :/ But everything is okay now.
> 
> Now, ANNOUNCEMENT TIME! I will be participating in Nanowrimo this year so I will not be updating this again until after. It may be further into December because I have set a pretty impossible deadline for myself for this Nano project. Some of you may remember "I Breathe Disaster" which I published for the 12 days of Christmas last year, and I am going to try and do it again for the sequel "Guilty by Design" this December. So that means I have to plot the story out and create my time line before the end of this month, and then write like hell for November, and then edit enough to start posting for the 1st day of Christmas on December 14th. Once that is all edited and just has to be posted each day, I will return to this story and start working on the next chapter.
> 
> Again, I am so thankful for all of you, and I wish I had been able to finish this before nano, but it keeps growing! *whispers* My original plan for this was only 4 chapters... mind blowing, right? 
> 
> Anywho! Love you all! If any of you read "I Breathe Disaster" and have been waiting on the sequel, or didn't even know there was going to be one? SURPRISE!  
> *Pops confetti*


	25. DENIAL: I will never believe in anything again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cont. 1st stage of grief: Denial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back!
> 
> If any Links are Dead, please let me know so I can replace them. Thank you.

Stiles steels his shoulders as he makes his way toward Derek as he exits the stage before their encore. Derek didn’t leave, that has to be a good sign, right?

When Derek registers that Stiles is headed straight for him he turns on his heel and makes for the exit. 

Stiles sprints forward, just barely containing a squeak of panic at Derek’s quick retreat. “Derek, please,” Stiles asks as he gently clutches at Derek’s wrist. 

Derek doesn’t shake him off but he doesn’t turn around either. “What?” His voice is calm, and emotionless, and Stiles almost misses Derek’s petulant tone from the night before when he slurred his words from too much Sake.

Stiles clears his throat and steps closer, still not dropping his hand, because he’s afraid Derek will bolt if he lets go. “Can we talk later?”

Derek makes no move to answer.

“Please,” Stiles whispers. He understands Derek’s hesitance and anger. He just wishes he could skip past this part and straight to the part where they inevitably live happily ever after. They have to. If Stiles has learned anything it’s that he and Derek will  _ always _ end up together. They have to.

“Okay,” Derek finally says, but doesn’t specify when or where.

Stiles takes what he can. “Okay. Later. Yeah. Thank you.” 

Derek doesn’t turn for a minute, but when he does he drops his chin toward where Stiles is still holding his wrist, but doesn’t meet Stiles’ eyes.

Stiles lets the skin slide from his grasp and his chest tightens at how it could possibly be the last time he touches Derek.  _ No _ . Stiles tells himself, it’s not over. They belong together. Derek just doesn’t know it yet. 

Derek walks around a corner toward his dressing room and Stiles knows he’s looking for some place quiet. 

Stiles wishes he could still offer some comfort for Derek’s stress, but he can’t make this better because he’s the source of the stress. Stiles is called back on stage and he isn’t sure what song he sings. All he can think about is that Derek agreed to talk to him.

* * *

 

“Stiles, we need to discuss our course of action in the face of the media,” Allison tells him when he makes it back to his dressing room. 

“A what?” Stiles blinks. “For what?” He blinks again. “What?” 

Allison pats the sofa beside her. “Sit.”

Stiles purses his lips at her as he considers his chances of making it away if he tried to run right now. He doesn’t have time to talk about whatever Allison wants to discuss. He needs to tail Derek and make himself available so that when Derek’s ready ready to talk he’ll be close by.

“Stiles, Derek isn’t going anywhere in the next hour. Sit.” She points at the cushin.

“Oh my, God!” Stiles groans as he flops onto the sofa and lets his limbs go loose demonstrating how this is  _ literally  _ the last thing he wants to do and she  _ is  _ in fact killing him. 

“Don’t be so dramatic. I’ve given you plenty of space, but as your new manager, you are my responsibility.”

Stiles mimes a handgun and shoots himself in the head. 

“Stiles, take this seriously or I’ll leave your Reese's off this week’s grocery list,” She threatens.

Stiles scoffs, “Joke’s on you, you don’t do the shopping.” Stiles punctuates with a pointed tongue in her direction.

“Then stand up and walk away.” Allison shrugs.

Stiles narrows his eyes at her, considering. “Fine. You win.” He knows better than to call Allison’s bluff’s. She’s one powerful woman. Stiles sits up straighter and turns his body toward her with one knee on the sofa to listen to what she has to say.

“Good choice.” She smiles. “Okay, so I know you haven’t looked at your phone since yesterday when the article was released because you haven’t responded to my emails.”

Stiles shrugs, her emails being the last thing on his mind. 

“Do you have any idea what’s happened?” she asks slowly.

* * *

 

“Still waiting?” Jackson laughs as he approaches  _ Were!’s  _ tour bus. 

Stiles rolls his eyes from where he’s been camped out on the asphalt with his back propped against the bus waiting for Derek to come back out. He doesn’t satisfy Jackson with a response, and turns his attention back to his phone to catch up on everything he’s left on the back burner since Kate’s article was released.

Jackson snickers again before taking the steps and climbing into his bus.

Stiles can hear him continue to laugh inside, and Stiles tries to ignore the fact that he’s become a joke to Derek and his friends. He opens another email from Chris with a lengthy apology for his sister’s actions. Chris laments on with how he takes full responsibility for what’s happened. Even though he had no part in the matter, he knows he should have removed  _ Fallout Shelter _ from her control long ago. 

A humorless laugh slips out as he reads on. 

Chris explains what changes are in process to be made and assurances that the label will do anything they can to alleviate any tension for the band.

Stiles backs out of the email, not caring about anything Chris has promised to help them with. Nothing matters to Stiles but Derek’s forgiveness, and the label can’t do anything to help that. 

Stiles doesn’t blame the label for the damage to his and Derek’s relationship. He knows this is his fault. He knows that Derek’s accident wasn’t his fault, and it took him a long time to accept that, but he knows it wasn’t his fault. The fact that he lied to Derek since he’s been back? That  _ is  _ Stiles’ fault. He knows that. There’s no excuse for what he did, aside from his own weakness.

Stiles has always been a coward, just ignoring problems until they go away. He really needs to work on that. His fight or flight response needs some serious adjusting.

Starting now, Stiles is going to fight. He’s going to fight for Derek’s forgiveness.

Stiles opens another email from Allison addressed to the band as a whole. It details everything she discussed with him at the venue about the media’s reaction since the article. 

Stiles is being painted as a home wrecker. He feels his cheeks blister with embarrassment. 

The worst part is how his reputation has spread to dirty the rest of the band. 

Scott’s relationship with Allison is under serious fire. 

Isaac’s lack of relationships have caused speculation to grow as to if he’s gay, or possibly trans because he’s rather feminine, which would explain why it’s so hard for him to find a companion. 

Lydia has become a prostitute as far as gossip columns are concerned, since she’s frequently photographed with up and coming male stars in Hollywood.

Stiles wants to track these writers down and do serious damage. He made a few bad choices, and his friends shouldn’t suffer for them.

Scott and Allison are sticking close and supporting each other through their own shit storm, so Stiles isn’t letting himself worry too much about them. Scott’s always had a flippant attitude toward gossip anyway. Allison should be fine, because one of her skills is knocking down accusations with a few firm words causing the accuser to cower, tuck tail, and run. They’ll be okay.

Isaac and Lydia remain close, and have even allowed Parish to come back. Isaac has finally accepted that he means no harm, and really does just want to get to know his brother. Parish’s presence has already eased Lydia’s nerves as well. Before Parish was removed from tour, he and Lydia had been hitting it off, and Stiles can still see them working in the long run. 

That just leaves Stiles.

Stiles, sitting outside Derek’s bus hoping he’ll come out before sunrise.

He looks toward the door and listens for activity within the bus. It’s quiet, and he worries they’ve all gone to bed, and Derek has decided not to talk to him. 

Stiles pushes the thought away. If he has to sleep against the bus tonight, he will.

He logs into twitter to pass the time. He knows he’s going to see thousands of mentions of his crimes against Derek, but part of him wants to be punished. Needs it.

He gets lost in the slew of hatred, and scattered defense among his most loyal fans. 

He’s fighting tears as he reads a blog post circulating by a fan, who has broken down his behavior over the last few years that now coincides with his relationship with Derek and his accident, all they way up to the point where Derek joined him on tour. 

This fan, whoever they are, has figured it out. They have pieced together how happy Stiles was before the accident, his downward spiral after Derek’s accident, his newest album and how it healed his heart somehow, then his changes since Derek joined him on tour. 

The fan uses photos throughout the post showing his broken mental state, pictures he can’t even remember being taken with his face slack, eyes heavy, and looking like he’s gone days without a shower. When they get to photo references of Derek on tour with him, Stiles looks happy, healthy, and in love. 

Stiles wants to find this fan and hold them as he drowns them in tears of gratitude for understanding. 

The scariest part is the end of the blog post.

_ Now, we can understand why Stiles changed and acted differently those years. He was suffering, and looking for anything to take the pain away. We were all so happy to have the old Stiles back that we didn’t stop to wonder why he had changed in the first place. He lost someone he loved and never thought he would get them back. When he did, we all saw how much he changed, but never asked why. Now we know. But now he’s lost him again.  _

_ He needs us now more than ever. Don’t let the media ruin him for you. We need to support him now more than ever. We’re all guilty of hurting someone at one point or another. He’s only human. I see fans crucifying him everywhere I turn, and it breaks my heart.  _

_ I hope he knows we don’t all feel that way. We love him, and want to support him. I hope he sees that, and I pray he doesn’t fall back into old coping mechanisms. Not because I would see him any differently, or be disappointed in him, no. I just can’t bear to see him suffer again.  _

_ If I could I would hold him and feed him cookies until he felt better, however long it took. I’m rambling now, so I’ll bring this to a close. I hope that this post puts this shitshow in another perspective for some of you, and we can all band together to support our favorite plaid wearing rockstar. Xoxo - Annabelle. _

A choked sob bursts out of Stiles and he clutches the phone to his chest as he regains composure. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve fans like this, but he’s thankful regardless.

* * *

 

Derek tosses in his bunk for hours, determined to ignore Stiles. He just wants to focus on the band, on tour. When sleep doesn’t come, he finally rolls out of bed. He mixes himself a screwdriver, and finally heads out to see if Stiles is still sitting outside the bus. It’s nearly five in the morning so he hopes Stiles gave up hours ago and they can both be spared this interaction.

Derek sighs. He knows Stiles isn’t one to easily admit defeat, so he grabs a beer and opens the bus door.

Stiles flails as the sound of the door wakes him from his resting place a few feet to the right of the steps. “Hey! I’m awake!” Stiles scrubs at his face and struggles to find his feet to stand.

Derek makes his way down the steps and finds himself holding the beer out to Stiles. Derek frowns at his offering, why did he grab it? Why is he attempting to comfort Stiles in any way? 

Stiles is the  _ enemy _ .

“Uh, thank you…” Stiles says slowly taking the bottle like it’s something precious. Though he eyes it like something that could detonate at any second, as he gently takes a sip.

Derek remains silent and looks out at the crowded parking lot filled with trailers for tour, and takes a sip of his mix drink. He cringes as the liquid hits his tongue, he’s grown so spoiled to Stiles always mixing them, that it seems he no longer knows the correct ratio of vodka to juice. 

“Thank you for meeting me, too,” Stiles says awkwardly, his eyes tracing Derek’s features.

Again, Derek doesn’t acknowledge Stiles’ thanks.

A long pause stretches before Stiles starts talking again. “So… how are you?”

Derek flicks his eyes at him.

“Right, bad question. Sorry, I just - I don’t know how to - there’s so much I want to say, but I don’t know where to start.” Stiles picks at the edge of the label on his beer, his eyes open and looking for Derek to reveal a soft edge somewhere.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Stiles,” Derek says gruffly. “I don’t know what you expect from me.”

“Nothing!” Stiles rushes to say. “I don’t expect you to do anything,  _ I _ fucked up, not you.”

“I know.” Derek scoffs.

“Look, Derek,” Stiles says, taking a small step forward. “I know I fucked up,  _ bad _ . I  _ know  _ that. I want to make sure  _ you  _ know that.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I know.” 

Stiles swallows thickly. “Tell me what I have to do to earn your forgiveness. I’ll do anything, Derek. Please. Tell me what to do. I can’t  _ lose  _ you again.”

Derek ignores the last five words, because he’s not going to be manipulated into forgiving Stiles. “There’s nothing you can do, Stiles. It’s done.”

“Derek, please…”

Derek shakes his head, turning to head back up the steps to the bus.

“Derek!  _ Please! _ ” Stiles calls louder, his voice breaking.

Derek stops, part of him wanting to close the space between them and kiss Stiles’ forehead to smoothe away his pain. But he can’t do that. Stiles hurt  _ him _ , not the other way around. “Stop.” Derek grumbles. “Stop trying to get me to wipe everything clean, and take you back.”

“But--”

Derek turns back to him. “No. You lied to me, you made me look like an idiot for months. You should have told me. I don’t care what you  _ thought _ you were trying to do, or that you were scared, none of that. You  _ lied _ to me. You  _ manipulated  _ me into falling in love with you. How can I trust you again?”

“If you--” Stiles scrubs at his nose. “If you could remember… the way it was before… you’d understand. We were in lov--”

“ _ Stop _ !” Derek barks, “None of that matters because I  _ can’t _ remember. It’s done. Let it go.”

Stiles looks at his bottle in his hand. “I  _ can’t _ just let it go, Derek. I fucking love you. You’re  _ it _ for me.”

Derek looks away quickly, his heart clenching in his chest because he remembers feeling the same way about Stiles only days ago, but that’s all gone now. He places his hand on the door to open it. “Well, you’re not it for me. Not anymore.” Derek doesn’t look back at Stiles, and closes the door between them.

* * *

 

Stiles stands there motionless, Derek’s words ringing in his ears. “No.” Stiles runs up the steps and bangs on the thin metal door. “Derek!”

Derek opens the door quickly. “If you think harassing me is going to change my mind, you’re wasting your time.”

“No,” Stiles huffs. “We still need to talk.”

“What else is there to talk about? We’re  _ done _ .” Derek’s face remains void of emotion, and Stiles wants to kiss emotion back into it, he knows he could.

“I’ll stop talking about…” Stiles hesitates. “About us, my feelings, whatever. But there’s other stuff to talk about.”

Derek sighs but moves to join him back outside before motioning with his hand for Stiles to start.

Stiles clears his throat. “The media, it’s gotten ugly.” 

Derek nods. “For you.”

Stiles cringes, not used to being alone in situations like this. “Right, for me.” Stiles licks his lips. “How do you want to handle it? The article’s going to come up in interviews, and stuff. What do you want to say?”

Derek looks away a moment. “Say whatever you want. You seem to always do what you want, so what makes this any different.”

“What’s different is I fucking care about you, okay? I don’t want to do anything to make things worse. I went all those years hiding who I was, and the years after your accident unable to explain my erratic behavior, I can do it again. You just have to tell me what you want me to do.”

Derek thinks this over a minute and Stiles holds his breath as he waits. “You do whatever you have to. Worry about  _ your  _ image, and I’ll worry about  _ mine _ .”

“Derek,” Stiles pleads, seeing Derek only a few feet in front of him, but having never felt this far away from him.

“What?” Derek barks, sloshing his drink with the swing of his arm. “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to beg you not to share my private life? Beg you to admit you screwed me over, and ruin your reputation?”

“Okay.” Stiles nods, he’s got the message loud and clear. He won’t discuss anything with anyone. It’s not just his life, it’s Derek’s too, and Derek wants to sweep it all under the rug. Got it.

“Are we done?” Derek asks.

“Yeah, I guess.” Stiles sighs.

Derek turns for the bus.

“Wait, one more thing.” 

Derek groans, “What?”

“I get that you’re mad at me, and I deserve it. But the others, my friends, they don’t. They were your friends too once, and they love you too. Please don’t take your hatred of me out on them too.”

Derek shakes his head. “They lied to me too. I don’t trust any of you.”

Stiles lets out a slow breath. “Okay. Alright. Okay.”

“We done?” Derek asks with a raised brow.

Stiles nods, and Derek disappears back into his bus.

* * *

 

The first interview was the hardest, but by the second week of interviews Stiles has taken to remaining quiet and letting his friends interact with the host without him. Anytime the host directs a question at Stiles his answers are short and cold. This keeps the host interested in the others, and he’s able to sit to the side and wait for it to be over.

The host of their first interview was instructed not to bring up the article, but they worked around it. They asked Stiles question after question about his relationship with Derek. Stiles flopped like a fish unable to say anything because he promised himself he wouldn’t air Derek’s laundry. 

Lydia had come to his defense, and shut the woman down. Since then Allison has made it very clear with all hosts that he’s not to be asked anything Derek, or article related. They still try though.

His solution is to just sleep through the interviews, and not allow himself to be attacked.

Derek on the other hand, is out for blood. He may not say much, but his friends talk about Stiles openly in interviews. The things they say…

Stiles deserves all of it. 

Derek has every right to be hurt. His friends are expected to defend him, because Stiles knows his friends would too, they already are and always have. 

Stiles takes all of it.

* * *

 

Derek’s still ignoring Stiles and always exits the stage opposite of where Stiles sits. It’s okay though, because Stiles knows Derek still watches his sets. 

Stiles doesn’t know if it’s because he still has feelings, or refuses to show weakness, but he’s grateful because that means Derek always hears the songs meant for him.

Stiles takes Lydia’s queue for the next song and listens as Isaac starts playing. “[Black ocean](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glx5u-dBzNQ) _ , cold and dark. I am the hungry shark, fast and merciless. _ ” Stiles can feel the low blue light caress his skin like a cold kiss.  _ “But the only girl that could talk to him just couldn't swim, tell me what's worse than this.” _

Stiles thinks of Derek’s inability to remember. If he could just  _ remember _ all of this could be avoided. 

_ “And it echoes in the halls. They danced along the walls.” _ Stiles flicks his finger dismissively.  _ “The memories of your ghost…” _

Stiles looks over at Derek briefly, knowing that the look he’ll see reflected won’t ease his pain.

_ “You are the one that I used to love, and I'm still in love, but I've never loved you the most.” _ If Stiles had loved him as much as he claims he did, he never would have lied to him. He knows that now.

Derek rolls his neck, attempting to look bored from his spot next to the refreshments table.

_ “I've seen better days! So unafraid in my youth.” _ Stiles calls, looking back at the audience with sightless eyes. _ “I can't breathe, much less believe--” _

Stiles brings his hands to the microphone, his eyes falling shut.  _ “You're getting everything you had, every little thing you had. A pure love unrehearsed.”  _ Stiles knows the love he gave Derek, both then and now, was never meant to hurt him. Stiles would have given him anything.

_ “I've seen your best and worst, and at your worst, you're still the best.”  _ Stiles lets his eyes flit back to Derek, eyes heavy and honest.  _ “But at my best, I am the worst. It's a curse.” _

Derek scoffs, so Stiles knows Derek’s listening to his words.

_ “Your eyes are lined in pain. Black tears don't hide in rain. And I tied you to the tracks.” _ Stiles knows he did this. He did all of this.  _ “When I turned around, I heard the sound, I hit the ground, I know there's no turning back!” _

Stiles’ eyes sting knowing he’s ruined everything. Derek doesn’t want to forgive him, and if he had it his way, he’d never talk to Stiles again. Stiles knows he’s earned it. This is his fault.

_ “I've seen better days!” _ Stiles screams, eyes back on the audience, only blurs filling his vision.  _ “So unafraid in my youth! I can't breathe, much less believe the truth!” _

The music slows, and Stiles’ limbs sway with the melody.  _ “Black ocean, cold and dark. I am the hungry shark, fast and merciless. But the only girl that could talk to him, she couldn't swim. Tell me what's worse than this.” _

Stiles throat burns at the memory of those years without Derek. The reason he chose this song at all.  _ “What's worse is all the coke. The ice that numbs my throat if only for the night.”  _ Stiles claws at his throat, the familiar burn he’s spent hours thinking about recently.

Stiles thinks about the fan’s blog post and her fear of him turning back to old habits. He’s holding strong for her, determined not to call up Ethan for a fix. Something to numb the pain of losing Derek again and still having to see his face everywhere he turns.

_ “My muscles will contract, your bones will crack. It's just a fact cause I am here to win this fight.”  _ Stiles looks back at Derek, who’s talking with Erica, and no longer looking at Stiles.

Stiles screams, demanding Derek’s attention.  _ “I can't fucking breathe, much less believe the truth!” _

Erica looks at him first, and Derek turns soon after. 

Stiles holds out his hand, aiming for the sky.  _ “I pick up a gun, aim for the sun, and shoot!” _

Derek crosses his arms, and Erica’s eyes dart between them.

_ “Better days, so unafraid in my youth. I can't breathe or believe the truth!”  _ Stiles feels the blue light caress him again, his limbs cold.  _ “Your eyes are lined in pain. Black tears don't hide in rain. And I tied you to the tracks. When I turned around, I heard that sound…” _

When Stiles turns to look at Derek, he’s gone and Erica remains with heavy eyes.

* * *

 

Stiles sits at a bar, fingers tapping against the sweaty glass as he watches Derek dance across the floor with strangers.

Derek’s never been one to indulge in liquid spirits, and dance against sweaty men at bars, but damn is he trying to change his image.

Stiles wishes he could be the sweaty body Derek danced against, but he’s ruined all chances of that happening. Stiles can only sit and watch, make sure Derek’s security team remains close enough in case one of said sweaty bodies tries anything untoward.

Derek catches Stiles looking at him and rolls his eyes as he drags his dance partner further into to the crowd.

Stiles orders another drink and locates Derek among the thriving bodies. Derek buries his nose in the hair of his dance partner. The guy’s hair is short and dark like Stiles’, so Stiles is able to pretend it’s him. A memory of better times. The illusion only lasts a minute as the guy turns in Derek’s arms and kisses him.

Stiles holds his breath. 

The guy’s first kiss is gentle, testing, just at the corner of Derek’s mouth. 

Stiles prays with everything he has that Derek pulls away, realizes he still loves Stiles, and comes to find him. That’s what happens in movies, right?

Instead, Derek pulls back slightly, looking down at the guy, and then leans forward to kiss him again. Derek’s shoulders remain tense, but his jaw works like it’s on a mission.

Stiles swallows as the guy’s eyes flit up and locate him across the room. In that moment Stiles knows this guy is trouble. He’s not just some stranger on the dance floor, someone who happened to partner up with a rockstar, no. He knows all about them, knew Stiles was watching, and made this happen. He wanted to hurt Stiles.

Stiles wants to shove his way through the sweaty bodies on the floor, rip the guy away, and demand to know what he ever did to him. What does he get out of hurting Stiles? They don’t even know each other.

Instead, admitting defeat, Stiles climbs down from his barstool, leaves a bill on the counter for the bar tender, and heads for the door. He doesn’t want to stick around to see what Derek does next.

Before he makes it out of the building he runs into Aiden. 

“Stiles! Long time!”

Stiles puts on his best smile. “Yeah, man. What’s up?”

Aiden laughs and waives his brother over. “Oh you know, same old.”

Stiles nods remembering all too well what Aiden and his brother tend to get up to. 

Ethan wraps Stiles in his arms as greeting. “Hey, Stiles! Haven’t seen you around lately. Heard about, you know...” Ethan pats his back as a sign of comfort.

Stiles sucks his lips into his mouth as he nods. “Yeah, it’s rough.”

Ethan steps back, and Stiles feels the contrast of Ethan’s warm skin to the cool air like a swift cold front. “Let me give you my new number in case you ever want to  _ talk _ .”

Stiles tilts his head down as he pulls out his phone to get Ethan’s number. He doesn’t plan on using it, because the only reason he would need to contact Ethan is for drugs or sex, and he’s trying really hard not to fall into old habits.

Stiles looks up after he’s entered the number and finds his eyes slipping over the crowd to land on Derek who’s lips are planted on the neck of the guy Stiles saw earlier. “Look, guys I gotta, I need to go do something.”

Aiden nods quickly, “Yeah, of course! Before you go though.” Aiden reaches in his pocket and pulls out a small baggie. “In case you need a break from all the…” He swirls a hand above his head. 

Stiles holds his palm out. “I’m not buying, thanks though.” 

“I’m not selling,” Aiden laughs. “Consider it a gift.”

“I don’t--” Stiles tries to decline again, but his eyes find Derek again. “Okay, thanks,” Stiles says, taking the baggie before turning for the door. “It was good seeing you guys!” Stiles calls over his shoulder before he caves and pulls Ethan back to his bus. He knows that if he did anything with Ethan it would only be a means to get back at Derek. But Derek doesn’t deserve that. Stiles deserves everything Derek throws his way.

Stiles will just have to learn to deal.

When Stiles gets back to the bus, he runs into Bobby, and he knows he should reach inside his pocket and hand him the baggie Aiden gave him, but his hands remain at his sides.

“Stiles, you little asshole! You feeling okay? You never come back this early.” Bobby asks, looking around for sign of trouble.

“Nah, I’m just tired.” Stiles lies.

Bobby blows a raspberry, locking the door on a trailer. “Never stopped you before. I can remember multiple times I’ve peeled you off a bar top, passed out drunk.”

Stiles fakes a laugh, knowing these times were most likely Derek induced, drink until you can’t feel your face, nights. “Guess I’m getting old.”

“If you’re old, I’m a dinosaur. Don’t you ever say that again.” Bobby points. “Now get your weak ass to bed, grandma.”

Stiles shoots him a salute and climbs onto the bus. He strips and tucks the small baggie into the bottom of his backpack, and tells himself he’ll flush it at the next hotel they stop at.

* * *

 

The next morning Stiles wakes up to Allison shaking him. 

Stiles flips on her. “What? What? What? God! What?”

She scowls at him. “It’s nearly three, wake up. There’s someone you need to meet.”

Stiles groans but rolls out of bed. He’s still pulling his shirt on when he makes his way to the front of the bus. “Who do I need to--” Stiles freezes, shirt halfway over his head. 

The guy.

The guy Derek was kissing at the bar.

Stiles turns to Allison to ask her why she thinks it’s necessary he meet Derek’s one night st-- Stiles cuts that thought off. Not willing to believe Derek would sleep with a stranger.

“Stiles,” Allison says smiling. “This is Theo, Theo Raiken. The label has agreed that with all the bad publicity lately, you need a little help keeping up appearances. Theo’s going to help you with your image.”

Theo smiles, taunting Stiles, daring him to say something.

“No.” Stiles says turning back toward his bunk.  _ A handler.  _ The label gave him a handler because they’re afraid he’ll start using again.

“Stiles,” Allison sighs, hot on his trails. “It’s not what you think.”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Stiles bites. “Don’t treat me like an idiot.”

“Okay,” She huffs, “Fine, but it’s only because we’re worried about you.”

“Whatever.” Stiles climbs back into his bunk. He wants to tell her how her new employe went out of his way to hurt him last night, but then he would be giving Theo exactly what he wants. “Just go.”

* * *

 

Theo follows him everywhere, and Stiles is doing his best to ignore him. Theo attempted to wipe the thing with Derek under the rug, and claimed he had no idea, but Stiles isn’t a fool. He knows his and Derek’s split has been trending across all social media for weeks, and has yet to die down. Not to mention a Handler wouldn’t be hired without an in depth rundown of his client’s life. 

Theo knew he was being hired on as Stiles’ handler and wanted to assert his dominance before he started.

Whatever.

Stiles finishes his sound check and comes off stage with equipment when Derek comes around the corner to start his own sound check. 

Derek sees Theo and freezes, his eyes flitting between the two of them. 

Stiles tries to decode the expressions flitting across Derek’s face. Shame? Embarrassment? Confusion? 

Derek comes to Stiles when Theo turns to take a call, unaware of Derek. “Who’s that?” Derek asks stiffly.

Stiles trips over his tongue at having Derek finally talk to him of his own free will in over two weeks. “Uh, Theo, a handler, he’s my handler.”

“Handler?” Derek asks, eyes still on Theo’s back. 

Stiles realizes Derek doesn’t know that Stiles saw him that night. “Yeah, the label’s afraid I’ll--” 

Derek turns to him quickly, his brows drawn.

Stiles shakes his head, he doesn’t need Derek worrying he could cause Stiles’ to relapse. “They’re worried about the press, they hired him to help with my image.” Stiles says flippantly.

Derek nods, accepting his answer and looking back toward Theo.

Stiles wants to say ‘Yeah, so lucky for you, you’re new boyfriend will be around a lot.’ but he bites his tongue because he has no right to guilt Derek over anything.

Derek looks back at Stiles awkwardly, realizing he just broke his two week silent treatment. “I need to…” He motions for the stage.

“Yeah, I know.” Stiles says, hands firmly in his pockets.

* * *

 

Stiles sits next to the stage, watching Derek’s set, with Theo sitting right beside him. 

Derek keeps darting eyes over at Theo and Stiles hates that all it took to get Derek’s attention was some guy he hooked up with in a bar.

Theo laughs after Derek looks away for the tenth time. 

Stiles glances over before he can stop himself.

Theo locks eyes with him. “I don’t know how you fucked that up. If I was getting ass like that on the regular, I wouldn’t have let him go.”

Stiles finds himself responding without thinking. “It’s not like I haven’t been trying.”

Theo laughs again. “Yeah, well you fucked up so badly, he’s never going to look at you again. That’s over. Sucks to be you.”

Stiles bites his tongue, wants to tell Theo he’ll never have Derek. He’s trash. Stiles barely knows him, but he’s definitely trash, and Derek deserves better.

Derek looks back again, and Theo winks. Stiles watches Derek, and Derek’s ears flush as he turns back to his song. 

“Don’t worry,” Theo sighs. “I’ll take good care of him.”

“Fuck you!” Stiles spits, literally spits on Theo, before walking away to find a place to smoke. 

Theo cackles from behind him and Allison questions Stiles with her eyes as he crashes through a side door, security quick on his heels to join him.

Stiles gives her the finger before the door cuts off her vision of him.

* * *

 

Stiles has let the adrenaline of performing flood his system and distract him from any and all things Derek, until he catches sight of Derek blushing in front of Theo as they talk off stage.

The next song starts and Stiles laughs at the irony.  _ “[I-I-I-I can't explain a thing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dwUO6Nut8uU). I-I-I-I want everything to change and stay the same. Oh time doesn't care about anyone or anything. Come together. Come apart. Only get lonely when you read the charts.” _

Stiles looks over and Derek’s still laughing with Theo, his teeth poking out below his lip, as he tries to hide them with his hand.

_ “And oh baby, when they made me, they broke the mold. Girls used to follow me around then I got cold.”  _

Derek looks up and catches Stiles staring at him. 

Stiles quickly looks away and swings his arm over his head.  _ “Throw your cameras in the air, and wave them like you just don't care.” _

Stiles remembers writing this song, he remembers how strongly he felt it, how bad he had gotten. It was just before he fell into his downward spiral, the same spiral he’s been fighting since Aiden handed him the baggie. 

_ “I will never believe in anything again! I will never believe in anything again! Though change will come. Oh, change will come! I will never believe in anything again.” _

Stiles turns and Derek’s blush has disappeared, his face is trying to remain unreadable but Stiles knows him too well. He feels bad for flaunting his new fling in front of Stiles.

_ “We will never believe again, kick drum beating in my chest again. We will never believe again, preach electric to a microphone stand.” _

Stiles doesn’t look at Derek or Theo for the rest of the show and after he walks straight off stage to hide in his bus he does his best to ignore the baggie calling his name.

* * *

 

Theo finds him in his bunk a couple hours later. 

Stiles hasn’t been able to find the sleep he desperately needs to escape reality. 

“Well, you’re no fun. How am I supposed to enjoy myself if I have to babysit your ass on the bus.” Theo complains as he pulls back Stiles’ curtain.

“Fuck off,” Stiles groans pulling his curtain shut again.

Theo rips the curtain back again. “You mad at me about something?”

Stiles levels a glare at Theo’s feigned innocence.

“Is this about me hooking up with your ex?” Theo asks like it’s news to him.

Stiles wants to punch him, turn his eyes the same color as the dark bruises on his neck that are ruining Stiles’ life.

“Stiles…” Theo whispers like he’s actually sorry for hooking up with Derek.

Stiles rolls away from him. He knew that if Derek was serious about not forgiving him, that eventually Derek would start dating. He just didn’t expect it to be this soon. “Don’t worry about it.”

Theo rests on his forearms against Stiles’ bed. “I promise I’ll take care of him.”

“Just go.” Stiles bites, his eyes stinging.

“No can do.” Theo sighs, “I go where you go. It’s kind of my job.”

Stiles looks over at him, his face pinched with annoyance. Stiles realizes he can use this to his advantage, and a small smile creeps across his face. If Stiles stays away from Derek, so does Theo.

“Why are you smiling?” Theo steps back.

Stiles smiles wider. “Gonna be hard to hook up with Derek, if you’re never around him.” Stiles watches the understanding flit across Theo’s face.

“You and I both know you can’t stay away from him.” 

“You don’t know me, Theo.” Stiles grins. “Good luck getting laid.”

Theo smirks. “Don’t worry about me, Derek and I can sneak off into closets while you're performing each night.”

“We’ll see.” Stiles says, knowing that was something Derek had never been opposed to in the past, so it’s entirely likely he’ll do it again. Fuck. “You should make yourself comfortable. We’re not going anywhere tonight.”

Theo groans but walks away and Stiles can hear him turn on the Xbox in the back of the bus.

The small baggie calls his name but he ignores it as long as he can. 

Later when he finds himself reaching for his bag at the foot of his bed he grabs his phone and shoots a text to Danny.

_ Stiles: I need you. I might do something stupid. _

The answer comes almost immediately. 

_ Danny: Where are you? _

* * *

 

“Yes, good. Keep going.” Danny huffs. “Don’t stop. Almost there.”

Stiles holds himself up with shaking arms, sweat dripping down his nose.

“Come on, almost there.” Danny urges.

Stiles looks at Danny, his eyes open and unmoving. Stiles grunts with his exhaustion. “Fuck, Danny. I can’t.”

“Don’t stop.” Danny begs, eyes warm.

Stiles’ arms quake with the effort to keep himself up. “Fuck, Danny, I can’t, I need...”

“Are you still thinking about them?” Danny asks.

Stiles clenches his eyes as he fights to lift himself again. “Yes…” This is why he texted Danny. He needs help distracting himself from the baggie, Theo, and Derek.

“You’ll be okay. I’ve got you.” Danny promises with a soft hand to his hair.

Stiles lowers himself again. “I know.”

“Five, four, three,” Danny counts.

Stiles uses every bit of energy he has to keep going until Danny lets him stop.

“Two, one.” Danny claps him on the back. “Good, great job. You can take a break.”

Stiles collapses face first onto the rough carpet of the bus huffing like he just ran a marathon.

Danny hands Stiles a bottle of water and a towel to wipe the sweat from his skin. “You’re really out of shape. Have you not worked out at all since I left?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Haven’t really had time.”

“That’s a lie, and you know it.” Danny laughs. “Five minutes and we do laps around the lot. Gotta get you back in shape. Never know when you’ll be contracted for another underwear campaign.” Danny winks.

Stiles rolls onto his back, arms flopping uselessly. “Ha, funny, same old comedian as before.” Stiles groans at his aching muscles from all the reps Danny’s pushed him through. “You plan on carrying me? Because I don’t think I can move.”

Danny sticks a finger in his mouth and wiggles the wet digit toward Stiles’ ear.

“Oh, fuck you,” Stiles groans rolling away from the offensive digit. “Hate you so much.”

“Love you too.” Danny smiles.

Stiles can’t help but smile back at him. Danny’s always been too good to him, and always knows exactly what he needs.

True to his word, Danny allows him five minutes of rest before dragging him into the parking lot to run laps. By the time Stiles is told he can stop he’s no longer thinking about the baggie, but Theo remains on the steps of his bus reminding Stiles of just how badly he’s fucked things up.

* * *

 

Danny stays with him the next few days, and has even come to the point of holding Stiles each night as he searches for sleep. 

Stiles knows that if Danny wasn’t here there’s no way he would have ignored the baggie for as long as he has. He didn’t tell Danny he had any drugs on him because he knew Danny would insist on flushing them, and Stiles isn’t ready to let go of them.

He hasn’t used though. He’s held strong. For his fans. For his friends. For Derek. For himself. He can’t go back to the way he used to be. He just can’t.

Stiles passes Derek after he finishes his sound check. Over the past week he’s gotten to the point where seeing Derek’s face doesn’t tear him in two, and only causes him to wilt at the edges.

Derek grabs his arm, expression hard. “Danny? This the same Danny you told me about?”

Stiles looks at him surprised not only to have Derek direct words at him, and even more surprised that Derek’s touching him. Stiles nods once. “Yeah, why?”

“The friends with  _ benefits _ ,  _ Danny _ ?” Derek knits his brows, and Stiles finds himself bristling.

“What’s it to you?” Stiles bites his tongue, wrong thing to say. So wrong. Wrong. Wrong.  _ Wrong _ .

“Nothing.” Derek responds quickly, his hand quickly releasing Stiles’ arm. “I just never put it together before.”

Stiles wants to reach out and grab Derek, feel his warmth again, apologize and tell him nothing’s going on, that he still loves him, that he’ll never be with anyone else again.

Derek walks away before Stiles can say any of it.

“Stupid.” Stiles smacks his forehead. “Stupid. Stupid.  _ Stupid _ .”

Theo walks up. “What’d you do now?”

Stiles glares at him. “Don’t talk to me like you know me.”

Theo scoffs. “Where’s your boy toy?”

Stiles turns on his heel and retreats to his dressing room. Fuck Theo Raiken. Fuck Theo with a fucking cactus.  _ Fuck. Theo. Raiken _ .

* * *

 

That night Stiles finds himself singing a song he hadn’t sang in a long time. He heard the music queue as his friends started playing, and muscle memory took over after that.

_ “[I'm coming apart at the seams](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H9vQ41wAsZ0).”  _ Stiles looks toward Isaac who’s smiling easily as he strums. Stiles nods at him, acknowledging his friends attempt to comfort Stiles. Even though he’s kept them at arm's length the past few weeks, they still know him. They understand what he’s going through even without talking about it.

_ “Pitching myself for leads in other people's dreams now. Buzz, buzz, buzz.” _ Stiles flicks his fingers at the warm lights above him, his skin prickling with sweat from his performance so far.  _ “Doc, there's a hole where something was.”  _ Stiles doesn’t look for Derek. He’s working on it.

Derek has made it clear that there’s no future for them, and Stiles is trying to honor Derek’s wishes and keep his distance.

_ “Doc, there's a hole where something was.” _ Stiles taps his chest, eyes closed, the back of his lids painted with Derek’s smile.

_ “Fell out of bed, butterfly bandage, but don't worry.” _ Stiles taps his temple as he opens his eyes.  _ “You'll never remember, your head is far too blurry.” _

Stiles pulls his microphone from the stand and runs across the stage, muscles remembering his old performance with the song.  _ “Put him in the back of a squad car restrain that man!”  _ Stiles points at someone in the front row, before pulling at his hair and retreating from the front row.  _ “He needs his head put through a cat scan!” _

_ “Hey editor, I'm undeniable!”  _ Stiles pounds on his chest. _ “Hey doctor, I'm certifiable!” _

Stiles finds Lydia and drapes his arm over her shoulder. _ “I'm a loose bolt of a complete machine. What a match, I'm half doomed and you're semi-sweet.”  _ Stiles kisses her temple and she leans into him a moment before he skips back down stage.

_ “So boycott love! Detox just to retox!” _ Stiles thinks about his current state, and how familiar it feels to when he wrote this song all those years ago. _ “And I'd promise you anything for another shot at life!”  _ Stiles locks his eyes forward, refusing to look for Derek.

_ “And perfect boys with their perfect lives… Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy.” _

His friends echo.  _ “Wants to hear you sing about tragedy.” _

Stiles gets lost in the song, running back and forth, instigating furious fist pumps with the audience. _ “Detox! Just to retox! Detox! Just to retox!” _ The crowd drowns Stiles own voice out with their volume and he drops his microphone, listening to them scream his words back at him.

They continue chanting along with his friends and Stiles harmonizes with them.  _ “So boycott love...” _

They chant.  _ “Detox! Just to retox! Detox!” _

_ “Boycott love!” _ Stiles sings, feeling an overwhelming sense of belonging. Thousands of voices drown out the call of the baggie, and cocoon themselves around his bandaged heart.

_ “And I'd promise you anything for another shot at life! And perfect boys with their perfect lives, nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy.” _

His friends sing.  _ “Wants to hear you sing…” _

Stiles closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.  _ “Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy.” _

_ “Wants to hear you sing about tragedy.”  _ They echo as the lights dim for them to regroup for the next song on the set list.

Stiles doesn’t know if Derek payed attention, or even cares, and Stiles tells himself it doesn’t matter. Nothing’s going to change.

* * *

 

They stop at a hotel, and Stiles isn’t sure how he finds the strength to hold himself up in the shower after his two hour work out with Danny in the hotel gym. Danny is  _ actually  _ trying to kill him.

Stiles laughs morbidly. “That’s one way to put an end to my madness.” Stiles props a hand against the shower wall, knowing this is the point where he would rub one out while he has some sense of privacy, but he finds himself bored with the idea. He washes his hair again for good measure, stripping it of a week of oil and product before shutting off the water and climbing out.

Danny’s waiting in his room with his laptop open as he works on something for one of his clients. 

Stiles suddenly feels a pang of guilt for dragging Danny away from his life because he’s too weak to handle a breakup. He knew Danny would come, knew Danny would drop everything to help him. He’s taking advantage of him, using him, and offering nothing in return. Stiles can never love Danny the way he loves him. 

Danny looks up with a loose smile. “I wouldn’t push you this hard if you hadn’t started getting a beer belly since I last saw you. You did this to yourself.”

“Ha-Ha.” Stiles coughs sarcastically. “I do not have a beer belly.”

Danny winks. “Not anymore.”

Stiles walks over to his bag and pulls out clean clothes, he sees the baggie in the bottom and quickly covers it with a shoe. He knows he promised himself he would flush it at the next hotel, but he’s not ready to let go of his fail safe. “So what you working on?” Stiles asks as he pulls on sweats and a shirt.

Danny looks back at his computer. “Debugging a script for a client. Their site was hacked and all their links were replaced with links to PornXX.”

“No way!” Stiles laughs, plopping onto the mattress.

Danny laughs with him.

Stiles looks around at the quiet room. “You know you can go out with everyone, right? I’ll be okay for a few hours. Technically, Theo is the only one who has to keep an eye on me. I’m sure Scott misses you. And Jackson…” Stiles tests with a wiggle of his brow.

Danny blushes. 

After Derek’s band joined them on tour, Danny was still around for technical support, and he and Jackson had hit it off. Stiles knew Danny well enough to know when a crush was forming.

Danny shoves Stiles away when he pokes at his red cheek. “Stop it.”

Stiles giggles and cushions his head behind Danny’s laptop on his thighs.

Danny sighs after a moment. “He’s the enemy. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Stiles blinks at the ceiling. “What? He’s not - there’s no enemy. You can hang out with him if you want, you can hang out with all of them, no big.”

Danny pulls his laptop closed. “Stiles, I’m not going to do that to you.”

“Do what?” Stiles asks exasperated, knowing what Danny is saying, but wishing it weren’t an issue. 

“I’m not going to go rubbing it in your face that I can hang with them, when you can’t.” Danny’s eyes are soft.

Stiles huffs. “Yeah, but I deserve it. I’m the one that lied to them, they have every right to be mad at  _ me _ .”

Danny doesn’t say anything, just reaches a hand out and scratches Stiles’ behind the ear.

Stiles relaxes into the touch, the baggie falling from the forefront of his mind. He hears the chime of a keycard in his door, and braces himself for Theo. Since he’s Stiles’ official handler he gets a spare key to his rooms the same as Scott.

As expected, Theo comes around the corner then throws a hand over his eyes dramatically. “Oh shit, am I interrupting? I can come back later.”

Stiles considers taking Theo up on the offer, but the last thing he needs is word getting back to Derek that he’s fucking Danny, which he’s  _ not _ . Danny’s just keeping him clean. “Shut the fuck up.” Stiles groans, Danny’s hand still scratching behind his ear keeping him calm.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Theo winks, taking a seat across the room.

Stiles watches Theo pull out his phone and Stiles ignores the possibility that he’s texting Derek. There’s no way Derek would be interested in updates on Stiles sex life. Derek ended things. It’s done. He made that clear. If Theo really is trying to lock Derek down, the last thing he should do is talk about Derek’s ex.

Stiles looks up at Danny and imagines really giving in and doing what everyone thinks he’s doing. Danny’s great. He’s a great guy, and Stiles knows he would be loved and cared for. The sex wasn’t bad either. But…

Stiles wants Derek. Derek and only Derek. There isn’t anyone else.

Danny seems to read his mind and smoothes his eyebrows and tells him he’s okay.

Stiles searches for sleep, but before he finds it the door chimes again and in comes Scott followed by the rest of his friends.

“We brought beer!” Scott cheers holding a case over his head like a champion.

Stiles pushes himself to a sitting position. “What? Guys, go out! We’re in New York! Go out!”

“Nah,” Isaac huffs. “We wanna stay in, hang.”

Lydia bounces onto the bed, grabbing Stiles. “We miss you.”

Stiles whispers into her hair. “Sorry, I’ve just been…”

“We know.” She kisses his temple. “But you’re not alone.”

Theo sits awkwardly at the side of the room as Scott passes out beers to everyone but him. 

Stiles smirks. He never told the others about Derek and Theo, maybe they’ve picked up on it, or maybe they hate the fact that Stiles requires a handler now. Either way, Stiles is happy to see Theo get the cold shoulder.

They drink, talk, and laugh for hours. At some point someone found Derek’s bottle of vodka he left behind and poured him a string of shots before Scott unpacked his Xbox and started the system for the first round of blood. 

After a few hours Stiles hands his controller over to Danny and heads over to the bed to think as best he can as his head swims with the effects of the alcohol.

Eventually, Theo leaves and Stiles finally feels like he can breathe. He  _ really  _ hates that guy.

Stiles spots his guitar across the room and grabs it. He’s been tossing a song around in his head for awhile and he thinks he’s just loose enough to finish it.

He plays with the chords for a while, going through the song in his head. It’s done. He tries to put the guitar down, but it keeps finding its way back to his lap. Eventually, he gives in. His friends are so distracted that they may not pay him much attention. Stiles just needs to sing the song, deal with his shit, and then put it in a box and lock it away. 

* * *

 

Derek’s sitting alone in his room texting Theo while his friends hit the city. When Derek met Theo in the club, he was just drunk enough to imagine Stiles dancing against him. The pale skin and hair enough to blur reality and let Derek pretend Stiles never lied to him. 

When Theo kissed him, Derek knew it wasn’t Stiles, but as long as he kept his eyes closed he was able to pretend.

When he saw the same guy at the side of the stage the next day, Derek actually believed that he was experiencing his first crazed fan you always hear about. Panicked, he stopped Stiles and asked, knowing that even if he had been pushing Stiles away, Stiles would protect him.

When he found out he was hired on as Stiles’ handler, Derek was able to relax but that was short lived when he realized Stiles might find out about him making out with a stranger at a bar. It wasn’t like Derek was planning on forgiving Stiles, he had no intention of getting back together with him, but he wasn’t a complete asshole.

He knew Stiles was hurting, and even if Stiles deserved it, Derek wasn’t going to intentionally wave a new relationship in his face. Or… not a relationship… but a hook up? Is it considered a hook up if you don’t do anything more than kiss and suck on some guy’s neck as you imagine someone else?

Derek’s head hurts.

Since Theo’s been on tour with them, Derek’s found himself in his company. Theo searches him out, and makes himself available. Derek can’t help but appreciate the attention. He’s not sure if he trusts the guy, but his smile… the way he gives Derek space and understands that Derek isn’t ready for a relationship. It comforts Derek. He’s not being manipulated, or taken advantage of like in the past. 

Everything feels new. Like there’s a whole world of possibilities for him.

He can’t stop thinking about Stiles though. Not like anyone could blame him considering he has to see him every day. His jeans still grow tight when he watches Stiles too closely as he performs each night. Stiles still draws his attention like a fucking magnet.

Derek still dreams about him too, but he’s not letting himself believe they are memories, because life has never been kind to him. He imagines his dreams are just that - dreams. Dreams of what he  _ wishes  _ he and Stiles could have had.

That’s over though. Not possible. Derek can’t trust Stiles. Everything Stiles has done over the past year that Derek found endearing, and thoughtful, were just things Stiles knew he liked from before. He was  _ manipulated _ .

Then Derek finds himself listening to Stiles’ songs each night, and can’t help but feel that they are all somehow related to him. He knows they are, but he can’t let a few songs wipe all the damage under the rug. Maybe more than a  _ few _ songs, but still.

Then there’s Danny. If Derek was  _ considering  _ trying to forgive Stiles, Danny put an end to that real quick. Stiles goes on and on about how much he loves Derek, and then he calls an old fuck buddy to shack up with. 

Already rebounding.

Theo texts him asking if they can hang out, and Derek decides that if Stiles can rebound, so can he.

Before he texts Theo back, he gets a notification on his phone that Lydia’s facebook has started a live stream. He clicks the notification to see what bar they’ve decided to hit tonight when he’s faced with a hotel room.

Derek can see a few heads at the bottom of the screen and explosions in the background. He recognizes Scott’s, Isaac’s, and Danny’s hair, then looks up to see Stiles on the bed with his guitar in his lap. The camera moves as Lydia relocates, and Stiles continues strumming, humming. 

Derek wonders what the point of the stream is, because usually Lydia opens with greetings, and updates the audience with what’s going on, before opening up for questions. This feels different. Derek reads the caption.

_ Big Brother’s always watching. _

That’s weird.

Stiles stops to light a cigarette and Derek recognizes the droop of Stiles’ eyes. He’s drunk. Stiles takes a long drag, letting the cigarette hang loosely in his strumming hand, before he starts again. 

_ “[Just keep on dreaming he said](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zq0vPwbOu1Y)…”  _ Stiles starts singing, low and barely audible. 

Lydia shifts closer, but Stiles still seems oblivious to her inching closer. 

_ “And if you think i'm coming back to your arms…” _

Derek suddenly needs a cigarette too, but they aren’t supposed to smoke in their rooms. Stiles is, but Stiles can afford to pay for a cleaning service.

_ “Cause after the mess that we made It's clear to see why you're gone.” _ Stiles voice grows thick, and he takes a drag from his cigarette quickly before continuing.  _ “But I lie awake every night, and I cry and pray that you'll realize--” _

Derek stands and rushes for the balcony, cigarette already in hand. He doesn’t need this shit. He should just close the feed. Text Theo. Rebound.

Stiles closes his eyes, the smoke swirling around his head. _ “--That you made a mistake when you walked out the door and my heart how it breaks cause I can't love you more than I did.” _

Derek watches Stiles’ forearm tense and flex, familiar cords of muscle tensing as he strums. Veins he’s memorized and dreamed of tracing with his tongue.

_ “Darling please! I regret this enough as it is, without you making it worse.” _

Derek finds himself barking around his cigarette. “Worse? I didn’t do shit!” 

Stiles continues, unaware of Derek’s anger. “I was a fool to let go of all the good that I held in my hands.”

Derek takes a long drag, demanding he not feel bad for Stiles. Stiles did this. He did this to himself.

_ “And i'm well aware of that now. But I still don't understand… why I lie awake every night, and I cry and pray that you'll realize…” _

Derek wants to charge down the stairs, bust through Stiles’ door, and rip him from the mattress. Demand he explain why he thinks this is okay. He doesn’t get to try and make Derek feel guilty. Derek didn’t do anything wrong.

Stiles’ eyes close again, his cigarette long forgotten.  _ “That you made a mistake when you walked out the door and my heart how it breaks cause I can't love you more than I did. Darling please! I regret this enough as it is, without you making it worse.” _

Derek wants to close the feed, he doesn’t have to listen to this, but his eyes are magnetized.

Stiles’ arm slows as he strums.  _ “And I know that we'll both be fine in the end… but that doesn't mean it won't hurt. And I know I put your heart through hell and I don't expect forgiveness right now!” _

Derek looks across the city as Stiles words fill his mind, the emotion strong in his voice. Emotion Derek wishes he could ignore.

_ “But maybe someday we'll learn to let go…”  _ Stiles stops singing, and Derek thinks the feed cut out, but he can still hear gunfire in the background from the Xbox.

_ “Darling please....I regret this enough as it is... without you making it worse…”  _ Stiles rubs his nose on his shoulder and Derek refuses to feel pity. _ “And I know that we'll both be fine in the end, but that doesn't mean it don't hurt…” _

Stiles plays a few more measures before putting the guitar down and walking into the bathroom unaware of Lydia’s camera.

Lydia turns the camera around and looks at the lense, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She says a few words toward the fans with fake cheer about new music in the works, and Derek closes the feed finally. 

Lydia knew Derek would see this, he doesn’t know how she knew, but she did. 

The burn of anger courses through him again at the thought of being manipulated. “Fuck  _ all  _ of you.” He growls before shutting his phone off and heading down to the hotel bar.

* * *

 

Stiles fights the effects of a mighty hangover as he helps strike the stage after their soundcheck, and actually runs into Derek. 

Derek doesn’t move or look away as Stiles sputters his apology as his brain presses against his skull. Derek crosses his arms, an old scowl settling in.

Stiles furrows his brows. “It really was an accident. Sorry, I’ll just get out of your way…”

Derek stops him with a hand. “That shit you and Lydia pulled last night, don’t do that again.”

“Do what?” Stiles asks, completely thrown for a loop. “What are you talking about?”

“That live stream you pretended not to know about. I saw it, and I know you were trying to manipulate me.” Derek says sharply.

Stiles flails, putting the speaker he carried down. “What are you talking about? What stream? We just stayed in and played video games!” Stiles wants to point out how what he does is none of Derek’s concern, and if he keep taking interest in his life Stiles won’t be able to stop himself from following him around like a lost puppy. He’s trying  _ really fucking hard _ to give Derek his space.

“That song? You had no right to make me look like the bad guy to the whole world, there was over a million viewers and now they all think I’m intentionally hurting you.”

“What?!” Stiles pulls at his hair, what song? What stream? He didn’t do anything -  _ oh _ . Stiles looks around and finds Lydia biting her nails by the refreshments table. Stiles rolls his eyes. “Look, Derek. I didn’t - I didn’t know about any stream. I never planned on recording the song or anything. I didn’t even think the others were listening…” 

Derek stares back, disbelief clouding his eyes.

Stiles knows what it must have looked like, and his song was private, he never planed on recording it. If anything he would sell it to another artist. He knows what he said in the song though. Derek wasn’t supposed to hear it. “I’m sorry you--”

“I’m  _ not  _ the bad guy here.” Derek says with a sharp finger to his sternum.

Stiles flinches with the jab. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yes, Stiles. You  _ abandon  _ me after my accident, then  _ lie  _ to me for a year, and now you’re throwing  _ your new boyfriend _ in my face.”

Stiles finds himself shoving his way into Derek’s space. Their faces inches from each other. Stiles’ eyes burn with his pain and frustration. “I said I was fucking  _ sorry _ ! You told me to get lost, so I’m  _ trying  _ to give you what you want! This isn’t  _ easy  _ for me!” 

Derek’s jaw clenches, “So you are fucking him then.”

“No!” Stiles shoves him hard. “I’m not  _ fucking  _ him.” The word is sour in his mouth. He hates that their fighting, they never fight. Stiles can’t handle this right now. “He’s a friend who’s helping me out! We’ve known each other a long time which is more than I can say for you and  _ Theo _ .” Stiles spits the name in Derek’s face.

Derek stumbles, not realizing that Stiles knew. “How…”

Stiles grits his teeth, hating everything about this day. “I fucking  _ saw  _ you, Derek. At the bar that night. I fucking saw you, okay?” Stiles takes a deep breath. He’s already told himself that he has no right to be mad at Derek for moving on. “Forget about it, okay? You want to move on, that’s fine, it’s not my business. I’ll talk to Lydia about the streaming thing, and make sure she doesn’t do it again.” Stiles bends down and picks up the speaker he’d been carrying.

Derek grabs his arm. “You’re not…” Derek hesitates. “So you’re not sleeping with Danny?”

“God! No!” Stiles sighs, “Derek, no.”

Derek’s lips tick up at that, and Stiles grows angry. Derek thinks he’s won. He’s moved on first, while Stiles remains with a broken heart.

“Fuck you, Derek. You win, okay? You rebounded first, Theo’s probably not far, you can go drag him into another closet and fuck him to your heart's desire, just let me go!” Stiles rips his arm out of Derek’s hand, tears welling deep within him.

“Closet?” Derek asks, “What are you talking about?”

“I know you’ve been fucking him. He told me all about it.”

Derek bristles again, ears red. “What I do is none of your business.”

Stiles freezes. He’s let himself pretend Derek and Theo didn’t actually hook up and that Theo was just trying to rile Stiles up. “So you are fucking him.” Stiles breathes, voice barely a whisper as the world tilts, his breakfast churning in his gut looking for an escape.

Derek shakes his head. “What I do is none of your business.”

Stiles shoves Derek away, fire burning through him. “Right back at you, asshole. Do whoever and whatever you want.”

* * *

 

Derek’s left standing watching Stiles walk away before stopping to yell at Lydia, then disappears around a corner. Derek has no idea what just happened. He doesn't understand what he’s feeling. 

Derek tackles the first thing he knows he has control over. He runs to find Theo. When he finds him laughing with the crew as they strike the stage, Derek grabs him and throws him against a wall.

Theo looks at him with wide eyes.

Derek puts a finger in his face, and slams him against the wall again. “You have no right to go around telling people we slept together!”

Theo puts his hands up. “Derek, I didn’t… I wouldn’t…”

Derek slams him again. “You and I both know nothing has happened since that night at the bar.”

Theo blinks, “I know. I didn’t say anything…”

Derek knows he hasn’t so much as kissed Theo since the night in the bar. He realizes he really needs to get a grip on his mind because he just took Stiles’ words at face value. Words from a guy he doesn’t trust, isn’t supposed to trust, isn’t supposed to even care about.

Then Stiles had the nerve to be angry.

Fuck Stiles.

Fuck his friends.

And fuck Theo.

But especially, fuck Stiles.

**Second stage of Grief: Anger**

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me... things will def get worse before they get better. (also, just want to make it clear because things had been lost in translation in the past)
> 
> Mentions of drug use are going to continue, and past and possibly present drug use might be detailed so if that's a trigger please let me know so I know if I need to dial it down and not describe it in detail. 
> 
> Anyway! I missed you all, and am so happy to finally be back. 
> 
> xoxo


	26. ANGER: Fuck you, you can go cry me an ocean and leave me be.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second stage of Grieving: Anger part one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strap in for a bumpy ride.

Stiles mind has continued to shut down over the last few days since fighting with Derek over Danny and Theo. Stiles knows that he’s not sleeping with Danny, so he shouldn’t take Derek’s anger over it personally, but Stiles can’t take the way Derek looks at him now. Like something dirty. Something  _ bad _ .

He’s also trying to convince himself that Derek hasn’t  _ actually  _ slept with Theo. Derek didn’t deny it when Stiles asked, but he didn’t confirm either. Stiles couldn’t handle it if he found out not only that Derek moved on, but that his first time was with someone else because he can’t remember theirs. 

Stiles knows he has to protect himself, and ignore as much stress as possible or his depression will slam down on him like a grand piano. He has to keep the reigns on things, or it will all go to hell in a handbasket. It’s happened before, and he’d rather not go through that particular hell again.

He understands the impending threat of falling apart completely.

The conflict is that if he succeeds in wiping his mind’s canvas blank, he’ll also be ignoring important things like making things right with Derek, which will be counter productive to what Stiles truly needs; to make things right with Derek.

He can’t find the medium; a safe place between letting everything in, and nothing at all. He needs to ignore the possibility of Derek moving on, and the hits he’s taking from the media, but he needs to focus on his and Derek’s relationship and how to mend it; romantic or otherwise.

There isn’t a medium, at least not one that Stiles can achieve.

So, as of now, he blocks things out when it gets too much, and lets the stress settle in late at night when Danny is there to comfort him while he babbles, screams, or cries...mostly cries.

Scott, Lydia, and Isaac have kept their distance which is unlike them. Stiles thinks they may have finally given up on him...

Good for them. They’ll be better off if they limit Stiles’ involvement in their lives.

Stiles scratches his chin as he tunes back into the bright lights, and chatter from both sides of him.

“Derek,” the host addresses. “You’ve been pretty quiet about the things that are floating around the media about you and Stiles. Is there anything you’d like to clear up, maybe get off your chest?”

Stiles rolls his eyes at the obvious need for scoop. 

Derek has kept his lips sealed for the most part since the article was released. The most he says is that Stiles hurt him, it’s complicated, and that it’s in the past. He’s telling everyone he’s moving forward, then turns the topic to the band.

Stiles expects the same when Derek gives a long suffering sigh.

“It’s unfortunate that just as we start to make a name for ourselves, our talent is overshadowed by the schemes of one individual.” 

Stiles blinks at him, stung by his word choice, and Derek’s eyes remain on the host.

“We’re tired of reading headlines that only want to talk about what Stiles did to me, and not reviews on our latest songs.” Derek puts a palm out. “Not to mention the fact that I’m not the only one in the band. All four of us are  _ equal _ , if anything,  _ I’m  _ at the bottom of the totem pole because I just sing the songs  _ they  _ write.”

The host has the sense to look ashamed. “You’re right, I’m sorry that you’re facing this. We’re just concerned with how you’re holding up. We all know that you continue to work closely with Stiles on a daily basis, and speaking as someone who’s experienced their fair share of breakups, and deceit, I can’t imagine what it must be like to not be able to cut them out of your life.”

Stiles locates his shoes and counts the specs of dirt in his laces. The hosts in their interviews have gotten bolder since Stiles refuses to comment on the situation and refuses to defend himself. Stiles deserves everything Derek wants to throw at him. If Derek needs to be honest with the world, defend himself, promote their music; Stiles owes him the ability to do it.

Stiles always did insist that Derek do what he wants, and to this day he still can’t tell Derek to do any different.

Scott erupts from next to Stiles. “You do know we’re sitting right here, right?”

Stiles blinks up at Scott, not expecting him to come to his defense after the distance that’s been put between them lately.

The host shrugs. “Yes. Are you saying that Derek isn’t allowed to talk about him? Has the label gagged him?” She looks back at Derek. “Derek, are you restricted from discussing your relationship with Stiles, is that why you’ve not said much about the situation?”

Before Stiles can come to Derek’s defense, Derek speaks up for himself.

“Of course not, and if I had been gagged, I would have spoken louder on principal.” Derek finally looks at Stiles, and unlike the months before where Derek defended Stiles sexuality, or trouble with the label, or any negative thing said about him; his eyes remain cold and uncaring. “Stiles knows what he did was wrong. He knows that I owe him nothing. He knows that there’s no fixing us.”

Stiles’ nails dig into the flesh of his elbows where his arms remain tightly crossed over his chest.

Lydia leans forward to crane her neck at Derek and addresses him with stern eyes. “Derek, this isn’t the time or place. You don’t know the whole story.”

Derek scoffs and shakes his head in amusement. “Not the time or place… funny.”

“Derek,” she bites. “Stiles has been respecting your privacy, and need for space. The least you can do is talk to him before you cast judgement to the media. Not until you know the whole story.”

Stiles wants to grab Lydia and run away. Derek is allowed to feel the way he does, Stiles is more than willing to take all Derek wants to throw at him.

Derek laughs. “The whole story? I can never know the whole story, because I lost my fucking memory in an accident that wouldn’t have happened if I never met him.” Derek jabs a hard finger in Stiles’ direction.

The host jumps in quickly, a little shaken. “Language…”

Derek powers on as though she never spoke. “I have no way to know if what Stiles and I ever had was real or not. 

Stiles feels his lips move, and a soft whisper of Derek’s name hit his ears. He can take the anger, but to think that Derek wishes they never met? Stiles can’t take that.

Derek hears him and flips on him quickly. “Even if what we had was half as real as you all want me to believe, you ruined any chances of us moving forward by lying to me.”

Stiles bites his tongue. Derek’s allowed to do whatever he wants. Stiles will take it.

Derek sighs, “Are you all happy now? Can we officially drop this? I’m tired of it, and next time I’m asked about it I will get up and leave.”

The host nods and turns her attention to Stiles. “Stiles, do you have anything to say to Derek, or for yourself?”

Stiles meets her eye and she looks like a lion having cornered her prey. He wants to tell her exactly where she can stick it, defend himself, explain to the fans that he didn’t mean to hurt anyone.

But he can’t.

Instead he drops his head with a short shake, refusing to say anything.

* * *

 

Stiles and Derek are left smoking outside while they wait for their rides. Derek tried to put distance between them, but their limited security corralled them together. Stiles can hear Derek’s long exhales, and his teeth gritting due to their proximity, so Stiles tries to remain as still as possible.

Derek flicks his eyes at him when Danny steps out of a waiting car to meet Stiles. 

Stiles greets Danny with a flick of his finger at his thigh, and Danny turns to make himself look busy by talking to the driver.

Derek snorts, grabbing Stiles’ attention.

Stiles raises an eyebrow at Derek, and Derek holds his cigarette out and deliberately taps the ashes off above Stiles’ shoe and watches the ashes fall with a smile.

Yet another side of Derek Stiles never imagined. The last few days Derek has gone out of his way to try and get a rise out of Stiles. Stiles refuses to react though. He’s not going to play into Derek’s anger. He’s just hurt, and lashing out. He has every right to.

Stiles nods at him, and walks to meet Danny and climb into the car.

* * *

 

Stiles exits the stage after his sound check and is shoulder checked hard by Derek as he passes him to start the show. It was intentional, and meant to rile Stiles. Stiles hasn’t said anything to Derek since the interview, or since he started this bullshit.

Derek continues walking past, typing something out on his phone like nothing happened.

“Keep it up, Derek!” Stiles shouts at his back.

Derek barely turns his head over his shoulder, his profile stunning.

“You can keep treating me like shit, but it’s not going to change how I feel about you.” Stiles promises.

Derek smirks before he turns forward and climbs up the steps to the stage to start his show.

* * *

 

“Guess what?!” Derek shouts at the audience as they take a break to all chug their water bottles.

Stiles still can’t get over how at home Derek is under stage lights compared to the first month of tour.

“I finally wrote a song!”

The crowd goes nuts. 

“Sure, I’ve helped with songs in the past, but I’ve finally written one all on my own. Wanna hear it?”

The response is deafening, and Derek winks at Stiles.

Stiles hasn’t heard much of Derek’s original work, but Derek’s wink doesn’t give Stiles any false hope that this song entails any promise of a future relationship. Stiles wouldn’t even be surprised if it were more along the lines of  _ ‘Fuck you, fuck you very very much. Cause we hate you and hate your whole crew, so please don’t stay in touch.” _

Yeah, this is going to hurt.

* * *

 

Derek’s been working on this song since the fallout with Stiles, and now that it’s done he’s itching for Stiles to hear it. As the others sing the intro, Derek shoots Stiles a threat with his eyes. They all played him like a fiddle, but he’ll have the final laugh. Afterall, they did get his band noticed.

_ “F[inders keepers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UEWbryLra_A), losers weepers.” _

Derek starts rocking from side to side, finding the rhythm easily.  _ “Welcome to the end of eras. Ice has melted back to life. Done my time and served my sentence. Dress me up and watch me die.” _

Derek’s eyes fall shut as he relaxes at the thought of finally getting his life on track. He’s been through hell, he deserves some good. 

Stiles shifts uncomfortably, easily understanding what Derek is telling him.

Derek looks out at the bright lights and screaming fans, this is what he wants now. All he cares about is furthering his career with his friends.  _ “If it feels good, tastes good; It must be mine. Dynasty decapitated, you just might see a ghost tonight.” _ Derek peaks back at Stiles.  _ “And if you don't know, now you know…” _

Derek runs across the stage to jump on top of a high speaker.  _ “I'm taking back the crown! I'm all dressed up and naked!” _ Derek pulls at his shirt, the feeling of having all of his personal life bared to the world, overwhelming.  _ “I see what's mine and take it!”  _ Derek drops down to grab hands, and imagines his future. Venues, fans, and music. He’s spent his whole life looking out for those around him. Not anymore. There’s only him and his band.

_ “Finders keepers, losers weepers.” _ The others sing, and they repeat themselves a few times as Derek watches understanding cross Stiles’ eyes. 

Lydia and Scott come to stand next to Stiles, having heard the song from back stage.

Derek rolls his eyes as he starts the next verse.  _ “Sycophants on velvet sofas. Lavish mansions, vintage wine. I am so much more than royal. Snatch your chain and mace your eyes.” _

Lydia crosses her arms with tight lips.

Derek smirks, happy to know his words hit where he intended.  _ “If it feels good, tastes good; It must be mine.”  _ He slaps the back of one hand with the other punctuating the lyrics. Telling them that he plans to drain them of everything they’re worth, and there’s nothing they can do about it.

He spent the whole first half of the tour grateful for Stiles and his friends getting him where they are and feeling like he didn’t deserve it. Now Derek wants to take everything he can, use them for all their worth. Exact his pound of flesh.

_ “Heroes always get remembered, but you know legends never die.”  _ Derek wiggles his finger teasingly at the audience.  _ “And if you don't know, now you know…” _

Derek glances over to find Stiles and Scott arguing about something before Stiles shoves Scott hard. His voice loses the edge he’s had up until this point as he tries to make sense of what he’s witnessing.  _ “I'm taking back the crown! I'm all dressed up and naked! I see what's mine and take it…”  _ Derek loses track of his emotions momentarily, confused as to why Scott and Stiles are fighting. If Derek’s irritated that Stiles’ attention isn’t solely on him, no one has to know.

* * *

 

“Fucking grow a pair!” Scott shouts at Stiles over Derek’s voice in the arena.

Stiles immediately falls a step back at Scott’s raised voice. “What do you expect me to do? He has every right to say whatever he wants!”

Scott gets in Stiles’ face. “He wouldn’t be saying any of this shit if you had just told him the fucking truth.”

Stiles gaped at his best friend. “Are you serious right now? You know I couldn’t, you know more than anyone--”

“No, I know you’re a fucking pussy.” Scott spits.

Stiles shoves his best friend as hard as he can. “Fuck you, Scott!” Scott hasn’t fought with him like this since Stiles was out of his mind with the amount of pharmaceuticals in his system. He understands his friends anger, but he never expected him to attack him like this.

Scott closes the distance again. “Oh, you wanna fight  _ me  _ now? You’ll fight your best friend, but not the guy who broke your fucking heart and has been dragging your name through the mud for weeks?”

Stiles shoves him again. “Back the fuck off, Scott. I’m not going to tell you again.”

Isaac comes out of nowhere with Parish and they separate the two of them.

Scott shouts over Parish’s shoulder. “Why? You gonna hit me, Stiles? It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Stiles claws at Isaac to try and get around him, not to fight him, but to shake him and demand he explain why he’s acting this way. “You said you were over that! I was fucked up, Scott. You -- I thought -- you were there! You know what I went through!”

Scott throws his head back in a laugh. “Yeah, I was there! I know you. So I know what you’re doing  _ again _ .”

“What?” Stiles screams, head clinging at his blank canvas in an attempt to block everything out.

Scott frees himself from Parish and comes to stand over Isaac’s shoulder and looks Stiles dead in the eye. “I’m giving you one chance to tell me the truth. Are you using again?”

“What? No!” Stiles shouts. 

Scott looks him up and down. “But you have some, don’t you.” 

It’s not a question.

Stiles swallows hard, before shoving himself away and runs back stage to find Danny before he does something stupid. His blank canvas nowhere in sight, everything flooding in too quickly to swiftly drown him.

He knew things were bad, but he’s been dealing, okay? He thought his friends were just giving him space or something, but he never thought Scott would talk to him like that as long as he stayed sober. He can’t fight it if his friends give up on him too.

The minute the stage is muted by the rooms and doors separating him from the arena, Stiles starts calling for Danny. 

He doesn’t find him.

Stiles slams his way into his dressing room and throws himself onto the couch. Everything is so fucked. He knows he can’t always rely on his friends to hold him together, he needs to stand on his own and be strong for himself. But it’s fucking hard, and he’s doing his best and failing.

“If Scott thinks I’m using, I might as fuckin well, right?” Stiles asks aloud, his voice foreign to his own ears. He rolls off the couch and crawls to his back pack with shaking hands, the small baggie calling his name.

The bag is about the size of Listerine Strip pack, and holds a few pills. What kind? Stiles has no idea, but Aiden always knew what he liked.

Stiles shifts the pills around in the bag, watching them slide against each other. Admiring how a small pill no bigger than a ladybug, can make all his troubles disappear while simultaneously ruin his life. He knows it will only take one pill, and then it’s all downhill from there.

Stiles stands to find something to wash it down with, tears threatening his eyes in the face of failure. He just can’t do this anymore, he needs a break. 

His friends are giving up on him. Derek hates him. His fans don’t believe in him. 

He needs a break.

He finds a bottle of Jack and chugs it until he’s choking on the burn in his throat that overshadows the burn in his eyes.

The door opens and Stiles turns to find Derek standing there with questioning eyes. 

Stiles drops the bottle on the counter, and rushes to meet Derek, desperate to convince Derek he’s not as dirty as he thinks. He can fix this. 

His feet tangle and he trips into Derek’s arms. He must have drank more than he thought. 

Derek catches him, but doesn’t say anything. 

Stiles clings to Derek’s shirt around his back, and buries his nose in Derek’s chest. Derek’s smell clouding his brain and offering him a moment of safety.

Derek doesn’t offer further assurance, only keeps him upright. “What happened with Scott?”

Stiles scrubs his face against Derek, his mind slow with Derek’s presence, and the six shots of Jack he apparently just threw back. “Please don’t take this out on Scott and the others. You can hate me, treat me like shit, tell the world I’m the devil; I deserve it. I’ll take it. But don’t take it out on them.” Stiles pleads, thinking that maybe if Scott got Derek back, then he’d believe in Stiles again. He can’t lose his friends.

* * *

 

Derek isn’t sure why he went looking for Stiles after he finished his set, but he couldn’t figure out what happened. Now, having Stiles clinging to him and reeking of liquor, Derek fights the instinct to protect Stiles. 

Stiles is the enemy.

But Stiles can’t be all bad, right?

No, Stiles is the enemy.

Right?

Stiles loses his balance as he shoves something in his pocket, and Derek holds him up right. Stiles’ eyes are glassy when they meet his, and Stiles closes the distance with a firm press of his lips.

Derek freezes, his skin igniting in the best kind of way. Derek parts his lips on instinct, and when Stiles’ tongue slides into his mouth Derek’s mind finally catches up. Derek lets go of Stiles and lets him fall to the floor. “You just can’t  _ stop _ , can you?”

“What?” Stiles asks from the floor, not even trying to right himself.

“You just can’t stop trying to manipulate me? You won’t be satisfied until I worship the ground you walk on, will you?” Derek asks, scrubbing the taste of Stiles from his lips. “Fuck you, Stiles.”

Derek flips on his heel and storms out of the room. What the fuck was he doing there, anyway?

* * *

 

Stiles slaps his forehead until the screaming in his head muffles. Why did he do that? Why did he cling to Derek? Why did Derek even come looking for him? Stiles realizes he was so desperate to find a distraction from the pills that he ignored his resolve to give Derek space. If his head had been clear, he would have kept distance between them and talked to Derek calmly, and Derek might not have accused him of manipulation again.

“So fucking  _ stupid!” _ Stiles slaps his forehead again. 

Isaac peeks through the cracked door. “Stiles, you okay?”

Stiles shakes his head before standing up and capping the bottle of Jack and returning it to the shelf where he found it. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Isaac nods thoughtfully. “What Scott said…”

Stiles doesn’t look back at him, instead busying his hands with his hair in the mirror.

Isaac hesitates, half words falling between them. “Are you… do you… are you okay?”

Stiles sighs and drops his hands, his hair a lost cause as it demonstrates the disarray of his mind. “I’m not using,” Stiles tells him. Even if he came close moments ago, he’s still clean.

Isaac takes a step closer. “Good, but  _ do _ you have any?” 

Stiles closes his eyes, reaching for his phone in his pocket to call Danny. He needs Danny. Danny’s the only one who knows what he’s dealing with. Instead, his fingers find the thin plastic in his pocket. Stiles imagines pulling the bag out and handing it to Isaac to dispose of. Maybe if they weren’t accessible, his struggle would ease. 

He tries to will his hand to pull the bag out and hand them over, but his limbs remain stiff.

Isaac reaches out a hand. “Stiles, you can talk to me.”

“I know,” Stiles answers automatically, his hand coming out of his pocket sans bag. “I know. Things are just hard, and I don’t want to burden you guys with my broken record, but I’ll get through it. It’s my fault. Scott’s right, this is my fault.” Stiles doesn’t answer Isaac’s question on purpose, that way he’s not lying.

“Scott’s just worried about you.” 

Stiles nods. “I know, doesn’t change the fact he’s right.”

Isaac comes forward to hug Stiles. “I’m here for you, okay?”

“I know.” Stiles smiles weakly, knowing that as comforting as that should be, he can’t imagine burdening his friends with the havoc in his mind.

* * *

 

Stiles sends an apologetic look toward Scott as he adjusts for Stiles’ cover song of the night. After feeling Scott’s irritation first hand, now he feels like more of a burden because he makes them learn new songs every night just so he can paint the picture of a broken heart for a man who doesn’t care.

Stiles fingers fiddle with the stitches of his jeans, and he realizes he never put the baggie back in his backpack. He imagines reaching in and pulling a pill at random to pop in his mouth dry before anyone could stop him. He can already feel the calm settling in, the ethereal tingles caressing his skin in comfort.

No.

He’s not going to give in.

He just needs to keep expressing himself through his music, and he’ll be fine.

He’ll stay strong.

The music starts and Stiles centers himself. Again, he does his best not to look at Derek off stage, Derek will know it’s about him same as every other night. And if by chance, Derek’s stopped paying attention, Stiles will pretend he still holds Derek’s ear.

_ “[Georgia rain](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Zf7lgMpTXA) just kissed my lips. I live, I live for moments like this. Steady your aim, man. I know you won't miss.”  _ Stiles holds a loose arm out, forming a gun with his hand and turning it sideways. “I wish that you would aim for the blood of my heart.”

Stiles closes his eyes, the image of Derek going out of his way to hurt Stiles the last few days, gripping his heart. He refuses to defend himself in interviews, to the fans, for the media, to Derek. But this? Music? Stiles has always bared his soul on stage, so this is how he pleads his case with Derek now.

_ “And you know what you're doing.”  _ Stiles clenches his fist and punches his chest.  _ “You know that it hurts the worst, but I stand through the pain of it all.” _ Stiles arm points to the stage at his feet in a slow smooth motion.  _ “I'll follow you down to the edge of this earth, earth, earth.” _

He knows that even if he gets a grip, he’ll never truly be okay again. He’ll follow Derek around until there’s a restraining order against him, and Stiles knows even that wouldn’t stop him.

_ “In the name of love, I'll follow you. You fit me like a glove when I'm inside of you.”  _ The words send a full body shiver through him at the memory of late night in some nameless hotel, and the need to get it back.  _ “And if nobody's there, it's cold, I'll die for you. In the name of love, I'll kill for…” _

Stiles bites his tongue, knowing that he’d kill Kate for Derek, there’s no question. But that’s not what scares him. He’d kill anyone or anything for Derek, Derek just has to say the word and Stiles would pull the trigger.

Even if Derek’s desired target was Stiles’ love for him.

It would surely kill him, but he’d bite the bullet and accept his fate. 

_ “I'll kill for you…”  _ Without thought Stiles’ eyes cast over the side of the stage to find Derek talking with Boyd, but his eyes flick up to meet his, showing that he’s not as oblivious as Stiles feared.

_ “Your eyes, they could cut through diamonds and steel. For real, they're sharper than the blade in your hand.”  _ Stiles looks away again, reminding himself that he’s not supposed to look at Derek anymore. It only serves to push him further away when he feels like he’s being analyzed.

_ “They tell me you're strong, but they don't tell me what you feel.”  _ Stiles taps his chest, desperate to know if there’s anything left in Derek that still loves him.

Sure, Derek reacted to Stiles’ kiss with automatic welcome, but he cut it off quickly. There’s gotta be something there, right?

_ “I feel there's something that you want me to hear.” _ Stiles hears Derek’s words from the interview earlier in the day, and taps his ear with a tired finger.  _ “It's coming in loud and clear. You know what you want, what you want, what you want…” _

Stiles holds an invisible knife and plunges it into his heart in quick succession.  _ “In the name of love, I'll follow you. You fit me like a glove when I'm inside of you. And if nobody's there, it's cold, I'll die for you… In the name of love, I'll kill for…” _

He tunes back into the audience who remains deafening, even with all the heat he’s gotten over the past few weeks. He throws out an arm to skip an imaginary rock across the ocean of fans before him.

_ “Sticks and stones break my bones.”  _ Stiles holds the barrel of his handgun to his temple.  _ “But bullet holes, you know they can't hurt me.”  _ He cocks his thumb and flings his head to the side with each gun shot, punctuating his next words.  _ “Invincible, unbreakable, unstoppable!” _ He taps his temple quickly, determined to prove his strength to Derek.  _ “I'll show you who's worthy.” _

He yanks the mic from the stand in front of him.  _ “You grab the gun, I'll take the wheel. Fuck the world, my love is real!”  _ Stiles flips off the bright lights above him.  _ “Fuck the world, my love is real! Fuck the world, this love is real!”  _

Stiles folds in half as he belts the truth. 

_ “It's real, I need you to aim straight for my heart!”  _ Stiles pounds at his chest. Wishing for death over the pain of losing Derek again. He won’t survive it again.  _ “And if you're gonna miss then hit my head and leave a permanent scar!” _

Stiles looks at Derek.  _ “You're fatal but I love who you are. Be my death or my forever. You're my little bloodfeather.” _

When he pursued Derek all those years ago it turns out he made a deal with the Devil and missed the fine print. He got what he was promised, the love of a man he didn’t deserve. What he didn’t know was that there was no future without him. He swore to love this man for the rest of his life, he didn’t have a choice in the matter anymore.

_ “Bloodfeather.” _

Derek swallows thickly, before his face returns to his resting scowl.

Stiles clenches his jaw and turns back to the audience, screaming his truth one last time.  _ “In the name of love, I'll follow you. You fit me like a glove when I'm inside of you. And if nobody's there, it's cold, I'll die for you. In the name of love, I'll kill for…”  _

Stiles pulls the trigger at his temple, and shuts his mind off for the rest of the show.

* * *

 

Derek shoves the bus door open, opting for a night alone instead of going out with his friends that night. Truth be told he’s still hung over from the day before.“Get lost, Theo.”

“Excuse me?” Theo asks incredulously. 

Derek quickly apologizes as he steadies himself with a pinch of his nose. He’s not mad at Theo. Theo hasn’t pushed him, and listens when he complains about the others, or distracts him when he wants to pretend Stiles never existed. After he realized that Theo hadn’t spread rumors of them sleeping together, he scolded himself for allowing Stiles to manipulate him yet again. Derek apologized to Theo and thankfully he was forgiven.

Stiles will always be up to something, and Derek has to stop listening to Stiles. Stop caring. Stop looking for good in him. As much as Derek believed he’d found the love his parents had, in Stiles, he knows none of it was real. He just needs to accept that. Stiles isn’t who he thought he was.

Theo steps up the stairs into Derek’s space. “What’s going on? You okay?”

Derek looks into his eyes and gets lost trying to decipher the color. The open honesty reflecting back at him calming his nerves.

Theo lifts a hand to squeeze Derek’s bicep. “What’s wrong? Did Stiles say something?”

Derek shakes his head, wanting to ease the concern in his eyes. “No, it’s nothing. I’m just tired. Kind of want to pass out.” Derek lies, knowing he’s just going to sit up in his bunk seething at Stiles’ nerve.

“I can stay, if you want.” Theo offers. 

Derek considers taking him up on his offer when he hears Stiles call out to Theo.

“Hey, Theo, you piece of shit!” 

Theo and Derek look toward him across the lot. 

“Duty calls! Your ward is going out, better hurry along less you wanna lose your job!” Stiles finishes as he climbs into a waiting SUV.

Theo sighs as he turns to offer his apologies.

Derek growls at Stiles even though he can’t hear him. “He’s just trying to keep you away from me.” 

Theo shrugs. “Yeah, I know.”

Stiles leans out the window of the vehicle. “Theo! Get your ass in the car!”

Derek narrows his eyes at Stiles from across the lot and pulls Theo in by his collar to latch onto his lips with a filthy kiss.

Theo melts into him with a laugh. When they pull apart Stiles is nowhere to be seen.

Derek smiles. “Text me later?”

Theo’s eyes shine. “Of course.”

After everyone has left, Derek settles into his bunk and resumes his mental list of all the things he hates about Stiles.

* * *

 

_ “This is definitely going on the list of things I hate about you.” Stiles grumbles from the mattress in the hotel room. _

_ Derek raises a disbelieving eyebrow at him from his vantage point in the bathroom. “Excuse me?” _

_ “You heard me.” Stiles grumbles rolling over to glare at Derek. _

_ “I said I’ll be there in a minute, Stiles. Just let me brush my teeth.” Derek laughs. _

_ Stiles mocks him from the bed as he flops around pathetically. _

_ Derek laughs as he wets his toothbrush. “You can start it without me!”  _

_ “This isn’t some Hallmark movie, Derek. This is Star Wars Episode III. You can’t just start it….” Stiles grunts in frustration. “I don’t know why I like you.” _

_ Derek shakes his head, spitting in the sink. “Me either if you’ve got a whole list of things you hate about me.” _

_ Stiles kicks a pillow off the bed, and crosses his arms. “Yeah, because you suck sometimes.” _

_ “If you want me to do it more often, all you had to do was ask.” Derek teases, rinsing his toothbrush and returning it to his travel container. _

_ Stiles gapes at him. “Did you just make a - Derek! You are out of control.” _

_ Derek smirks and steps slowly back into the room to lean against a wall to torture him a little longer. “So what else is on this list?” _

_ Stiles rolls his eyes. “All the things that make you suck, and not in the good way.” _

_ “Like?” Derek asks, genuinely curious. _

_ Stiles flops around, accepting his fate of never watching the movie. “Like the thing you do with your feet when you’re fighting sleep.” _

_ Derek frowns, shifting on his feet. Kate used to complain about the sound his heels made as he slowly rubbed them together. She insisted he needed to see a doctor. It wasn’t a big deal, heals are generally rough, and he’s been soothing himself this way for as long as he can remember. “You said that was cute yesterday.”  _

_ Stiles rolls his eyes, but he’s unable to hide his grin. “Well that was until you did it last night and kept me up thinking about how cute you are.”  _

_ “Fine, what else?” Derek asks, appeased. _

_ Stiles levels a thoughtful stare at him. “Your taste in music.” _

_ “But I like your music.” Derek reminds him. _

_ “My point exactly. Your obsession with me is borderline creepy.” _

_ Derek rolls his eyes, and feels himself draw closer to the bed. “What else?” _

_ “The fact that you’re a cat person. Who even likes those hell demons?!” _

_ “Mhmm…” Derek hums, as he climbs over Stiles on the bed, pinning him to the mattress. _

_ “And how you use all the bubble bath.” Stiles says weakly, already arching up into his boyfriend's chest. _

_ “I’m pretty sure that doesn’t count because you share in that indulgence.” Derek purrs, trailing his nose along the column of Stiles’ neck, earning a light gasp. _

_ “And that you’re…” Stiles trails off as he chases Derek’s lips with his own. _

_ Derek keeps the distance. “That I’m what?” _

_ “A fucking tease!” Stiles protests dropping pathetically to the bed with the saddest puppy eyes Derek’s ever seen. _

_ Derek caresses Stiles’ face with his eyes, and smiles down at the man below him. “Anything else?” _

_ Stiles looks at Derek for a long time, body lax. “Your eyes.” _

_ “My eyes?” Derek asks, shaken. “What’s wrong with my eyes?” _

_ “What color are they, even? I can never figure it out. One day they’re clear as the open sky, the next dark like summer moss on the trees back home. Then a mixture of the two, like the days Lydia and I used to spend in the Preserve. Like, what the fuck. Pick one so help m--” _

_ Derek cuts him off with a firm kiss.  _

_ Stiles melts into him, clinging to him like they hadn’t just been discussing the things Stiles hated about him. _

_ Derek pulls back and leaves their foreheads pressed together. “I love you too.” _

* * *

 

Derek wakes with a jolt, immediately searching the mattress for the warm body that’s missing. Subconsciously wanting to continue the dream he just woke from.

When Derek realizes he’s looking for Stiles he growls in frustration. “Get out of my head!” He rolls out of his bunk and stomps to the front of the bus for water to find it’s only three in the morning, and he’s still alone on the bus.

Derek slams his way out of the bus to light a cigarette. The smoke fills his lungs, but does nothing to curb his anger.

How did his life come to this? 

He’s just so tired. 

He’s tired of fighting the media when they want him to bare his personal life. He’s tired of avoiding Stiles because he refuses to admit defeat and wants to talk and talk until Derek gives in. He’s tired of having to pretend he doesn’t hear all the songs Stiles swears he wrote for him. He’s tired of Scott shooting him dirty looks. He’s tired of Finstock ignoring him. He’s tired of Lydia’s sad smiles. He’s tired of Isaac’s watchful eye. 

He’s just tired of everyone looking for a sign of forgiveness.

He’s fucking tired of everything.

Derek steps into the shadows when he hears Stiles’ voice as he comes around his bus in front of Derek’s. Great. Just fucking great. Derek snuffs out his cigarette so Stiles doesn’t notice the smoke and attempt to plead his case again.

“What is your problem?!” Stiles asks with venom, and Derek flinches thinking it’s directed his way but Theo follows Stiles around the bus.

“I don’t have a problem. What’s yours?” Theo asks innocently.

“You!” Stiles shouts, turning unsteadily on his feet, obviously heavy with spirits. He pokes Theo in the chest. “You’re my fucking problem.”

Theo responds calmly, and Derek considers intervening, but he really isn’t in the mood to deal with Stiles tonight.

Stiles rushes Theo to stand over the slightly shorter man. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Theo smiles up at Stiles, not intimidated in the slightest. “He doesn’t love you like you love him, and you have to learn to live with that.”

Derek realizes they’re fighting over him. Up until this point he let himself believe it was just because Stiles doesn’t want a handler.

Stiles points a strong finger in Theo’s face, driving him back with forceful steps into his space. “Fuck you.”

Theo says something back, but again Derek can’t decipher the syllables. 

“I swear to God, if you hurt him I’ll fucking kill you.” 

Derek can almost hear blood in Stiles’ voice. The passion in Stiles voice is unarming, and his anger starts to bleed away as he considers Stiles genuinely wanting what’s best for him.

Theo finally speaks a little louder. “What Derek and I do, is none of your concern, you’re so fucking pathetic.”

Stiles laughs and steps away, scrubbing at his face with a palm. “I might be pathetic, but you will never know him the way I did. You’ll never know what we had.”

Theo straightens his sleeve. “And neither will Derek.”

Logically, Derek knows that Theo is pushing Stiles’ buttons on purpose. But Derek finds comfort in the fact that someone else gets it. Someone else sees Stiles for the manipulator he is, and refuses to coddle him like everyone else. Unlike when Derek lashes out at Stiles, Theo is actually getting a rise. 

* * *

 

Something snaps in Stiles as Theo’s words ring through his ears.

_ “Neither will Derek.” _

It sounds all too familiar. Stiles searches his alcohol laden brain for a connection. Then it clicks. He levels his eyes at Theo finally seeing him for the first time. “Did Kate send you?”

Theo smiles, “Of course not. She doesn’t even work for the label anymore from what I’ve been told.”

Stiles looks him up and down. If Kate were trying to drive a final wedge between Derek and Stiles, this would be the way to do it. Give Derek a new love interest since he refused to take Kate back, and keep him from allowing Stiles the chance to mend things. “You’re working for Kate?” Stiles asks again, voice barely a whisper. He thought she was gone. Done. Finito.

“You’re paranoid. Why can’t you just accept that the world doesn’t revolve around you.” Theo rolls his eyes.

It was the perfect plan actually. Stiles can imagine Kate’s victory the minute Theo got the job. She knew Stiles was likely to go off the rails, no matter if the media pushed or not. The label would have come to the conclusion that he’d need a handler, eventually. So she kept her eye out for an opening and pushed Theo into an interview. 

“Is she paying you? What do you get out of this?” Stiles asks, still running through the plan in his head, trying to find the end game.

Theo doesn’t answer, just shakes his head with a smile.

Theo even kind of looked like him in a basic sense. He was thin, but broad in the shoulders. Pale. Same hair. She even made sure he was someone Derek would find attractive. So what? Theo was to seduce Derek? Drive a wedge? Then what?

“What more does she want from me?” Stiles stumbles back, suddenly vulnerable in the dark parking lot. “Why can’t she leave us alone?”

“Stiles, you’re losing it.” Theo warns.

One look at Theo’s knowing eyes sends rage throughout Stiles’ veins. “No. I see you for who you are now, Theo. Fuck you.” Stiles crowds him against the side of the bus. “You are going to leave. I want you gone. Either you put in your two weeks respectfully, or I will have you fired and you’ll never find work in the industry again.”

Before Theo can respond, Stiles is yanked back and when the parking lot stops spinning Stiles finds Derek with his hands to Theo’s face in comfort, and Theo looks up at him with sad, scared eyes. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him, he’s been acting crazy since we left the club. I was just trying to get him back to the bus,” Theo laments.

Stiles can only gape at the blatant lie. “What the f--”

Derek flips on him. “Shut up.”

Stiles snaps his mouth closed, shrinking under Derek’s stare.

Derek smoothes Theo’s hair. “Go wait for me in my bus. I’ll take care of him.”

Theo nods, and gives Stiles a wide berth as he makes his way across the lot.

Stiles rests his elbow on his knee deciding the ground will be more forgiving if he remain it’s friend. “Derek, I --”

Derek turns a hard eye on him as the door shuts behind Theo. “What is wrong with you?”

Stiles’ eyes burn. “I - Derek, you don’t understand. It’s Kate! Can’t you see it? Theo --”

“No, Stiles. Kate is gone. Theo isn’t evil. You just refuse to let me go.”

Stiles sinks further into the asphalt. “I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that Theo’s --”

“Let me go, Stiles. Let it all go.” Derek bites. “Because I have.”

Stiles can’t find words. He’s at a loss.

“Get up,” Derek says without emotion. 

Stiles does as he’s told, clumsily finding his feet. 

Derek opens Stiles’ bus door and waves him inside.

Stiles turns to try and reassure Derek that he’s not crazy when Derek looks up at him from outside the bus with his hand still resting on the door. “Can’t you see what you’re doing? You’re ruining the tour for  _ everyone _ . Even your own friends. You want me to believe you’re a good person, but look at the mess you’ve made?” Derek shakes his head, and Stiles can’t deny what Derek’s saying. “Just… let me go, Stiles.”

Stiles throat works hard, and he swallows the acid that rises. 

Derek shuts the door leaving Stiles cold.

“Stiles?” Danny whispers behind him. 

Stiles doesn’t react, too numb with pain. He keeps saying he can’t lose Derek again, but the truth is he already lost him. He just keeps convincing himself he still has a chance, only to lose Derek again, and again, and  _ again. _

Danny gently turns Stiles away from the door to face him with a gentle hand. “Hey, look at me.”

Stiles eyes meet his, but he doesn’t really see him. All he can see are the doors Derek has continued to slam in his face. The creases around Lydia’s eyes. The anger ins Scott’s. The concern in Isaac’s. The worry in Bobby’s. Even Danny who’s dropped his own responsibilities to babysit him and keep him clean. He’s hurting everyone, and for what?

“Don’t listen to him.” Danny tells him, taking his cheek in his hand. “You have every right to feel the way you do.”

“No.” Stiles croaks. “He’s right. I’m just fucking with everyone’s lives. I’m selfish.”

“No, Stiles. Come here.” Danny tries to pull him into a hug, and Stiles shrugs away wishing he had never dragged Danny into this mess. 

“I just. I need to be alone.” Stiles heads for his bunk, the baggie from the show still burning in his pocket. If he just started using again, he’d be able to relax, and maybe ease everyone else’s stress. He’d just have to keep a better handle on it. Except he knows one pill becomes two. Two becomes three, and four becomes twenty. He’d soon be back to breakfast, lunch, and dinner pharmaceuticals.

“Okay, I’ll be here if you need me.” Danny says quietly.

Stiles offers a nod of appreciation before stripping his clothes and slipping the pills into his wallet to keep in his bunk undetected. He stares at the wood tackboard above him that he nailed in years ago to pin all the things that made him happy.

It was something Isaac suggested a few years back. He always battled depression and found that keeping the little things that made him smile, or took him back to good memories helped remind him that not everything was hopeless. There was still joy to be found.

Stiles lets his eyes trace over the dozens of pins illuminated by the glow of the street lights. Pictures of his dad, his mom, his friends, awards, lyrics that changed his life, Derek… the bitchy note he left on the closet in the bus after Derek found the mountain of garbage.

This IS NOT a hamper.    
Turn around, and walk away.    
You filthy animal.    
**\- Derek**

None of it offers any solace. Stiles feels empty, numb, only pain to be found.

Stiles thinks back on a conversation he had with Bobby while he was detoxing. 

_ Finstock wiped a rag across Stiles’ face as he sweat through his withdrawal in the passenger seat of the bus on an eight hour drive. “I know you don’t want to quit, that you want to be numb, but you’ll get through this.” _

_ Stiles coughed, feeling like he had the worst cold of his life as his body cried out for relief. “That’s where you’re wrong, Bobby.” _

_ Bobby looked over at him with knit brows.  _

_ “I’m not trying to feel numb.” Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat as memories of Derek in the hospital continued to make their way to the front of his mind without the pills distracting him. “I just want to feel something other than pain.” _

_ Bobby’s throat clicked in understanding, and at a loss for words he reached over to squeeze Stiles’ shoulder and didn’t let go until Stiles’ passed out. _

Stiles can hear Danny step up beside the bunk, but he doesn’t pull the curtain back. 

“Get some sleep, I’m waking you up in a few hours to run off your hangover.”

Stiles groans and rolls his eyes. “Kay.” He knows Danny is just trying to help. He has been watching Stiles slowly fall apart. He doesn’t realize that Stiles is already broken.

Danny walks away and Stiles can hear his bunk creak under the weight from it’s lack of use. 

Stiles pulls out the small baggie from his wallet and tries to identify what each pill might be. He flicks the bag a few times with the back of his middle finger, the sting of pressure against his nail only making his hunger grow.

He could take half of one, just half, just enough to get some sleep. 

Stiles chews at the dead skin on his lower lip, copper spreading across his tongue. 

He knows that all it will take is one pill though, and he won’t be able to stop.

He clutches the bag in his fist and rolls over to force himself to sleep.

Just as he drifts off he hears Derek in his head, ‘ _ Let it all go, Stiles. Because I have.’ _

Stiles fingers shake as he uncurls them from around the bag, the clustered pills casting inauspicious shadows across his palm under the light from the window.

He opens the bag quietly afraid Danny will hear it and tear his promise of relief away. He freezes listening for Danny to stir, but only finds silence. He slowly slides a finger in and draws a pill out at random.

He eyes it. Tells himself to put it back. Call for Danny. He needs help. 

That’s the problem. He needs help, and the pill is the quickest solution. 

Swallow it, and in less than thirty minutes his mind will ease. 

Stiles carefully presses it to his tongue. He’s not going to swallow it. Just suck on it for a minute. Take the edge off.

The unpleasant chemical makeup of the drug makes him cringe, but for the first time he’s not thinking about Derek, only his failure. He can handle that. At least he still has a relationship with his self loathing. 

Stiles watches moths fly around the lamp post outside his window, and feels the pill start to dissolve in his mouth. 

Twenty minutes later his eyes are heavy as he traces the flight patterns of the bugs, when he realizes he can’t find the pill in his mouth.

_Oops_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said after the last chapter that I was going to keep each stage of grief to one chapter... but I couldn't help myself. This at least gives you guys something to sink your teeth into while I sweat it out over here.
> 
> I also didn't receive any indication that drug use would be triggering for any of you, so consider this your trigger warning. You can hate me. I kinda hate me too...
> 
> UPDATE: 11/17/17 I've just gone through and cleaned up the chapters a little bit, and broke this down into Act's. I know it's been a long time since my last update. Life, ya know? Well, rest assured I am working on this for NANO and have another 23k (that will need to be heavily edited. My plan is to finish this story during nano, edit, and start posting again early 2018. Thank you all for sticking with me!


	27. ANGER pt 2: Clever to just a certain extent.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who's still out there, thank you for your notes, and patience. Please enjoy, and I'll see you all in the end notes. *big kissies*

Stiles’ knee jiggles under the table as he signs autographs for his fans, trying to maintain his light facade that they’ve all come to expect from him. It should be cake, right? Smile, nod, wave, sign here and there, and most importantly - ignore the fact that Derek’s at the other end of the table carrying on as though nothing ever happened. 

Truth of the matter is that this  _ is _ nothing. Stiles would have gotten through this just like everything else this year, or the five before. He’s mastered the art of faking his way through awkward situations when it comes to the state of his heart. 

The problem is his monumental fuck up last night on the bus. 

He’s had setbacks that have thrown him off course, but he always found his way back. Instead this single pill ripped the course out from under him entirely. He’s falling through space and reaching for something to grasp, but keeps coming up empty handed. He knows he should ask one of his friends for help. He should turn to Lydia, right now, and say ‘I messed up.’ then they could help him stay on track.

Instead, he keeps his lips sealed. It was one pill, he can handle this, he doesn’t need help yet, and he’s not going to.

When he woke up he was okay, he wasn’t itching for another pill. He was fine. Even on the drive across state lines, he was fine. 

Then Jackson forwarded a link of an article that had gone viral. 

That was when he started itching for another. 

He hasn’t taken another from the assortment given to him, he’s trying to stay strong. Last night was an accident, he didn’t think about the pill dissolving completely in his mouth, didn’t even consider it a possibility. 

It was an accident.

Accidents happen.

Stiles isn’t going to let it happen again.

A group of three girls come to stand in front of him, and Stiles offers the biggest smile he can.

“We love you. Oh my god.” The short brunette babbles quickly, cheeks scarlet red.

Stiles’ smile turns genuine. “Awe, thank you! I love you too!” He stands to hug her over the table and she squeals in excitement. 

The taller one hands him a CD to sign, and Stiles asks her name so he can write her a note. This is why he does this. Even when his life is falling apart, his fans still find something worthy in him or his music.

The red head doesn’t place her CD before him so Stiles offers a hand.

“Would you like an autograph? Or a photo?”

The red head flicks her eyes at him. “No, thanks.”

Stiles snaps his mouth shut, and nods, before smiling back at the other two and stands to take a photo with them. Some of the fans aren’t on his side, and that’s okay.

Just as the group starts to move on to Scott next to him, the redhead turns back to Stiles. “Why lie? How could you hurt Derek like that?”

Stiles doesn’t know how to answer her, he’s kept his mouth shut since the article. Something he knows will cause more harm than good mentally, but if it makes things easier on Derek, Stiles is willing to suffer through it.

Scott perks up. “Want an autograph? Wow! Look at you! You’re beautiful!”

The red head doesn’t back down, eyes still burning through Stiles. 

The tall friend reaches for her. “Justine, leave it. It’s not our business.”

Justine rips her arm from her friend. “No, Rena, I’ve defended him for years, he owes me an explanation.”

Stiles realizes the group of them hold the attention of the whole room. “I don’t know.” He tries weakly. “I wasn’t… I was scared.”

Lydia comes to stand behind him. “Stop talking, Stiles.” She looks at the girls. “You three should move it along, you’re holding up the line.”

Justine levels her with a glare, but eventually moves on.

Rena holds back. “I’m sorry about her. She…”

“It’s okay.” Stiles tells her. “I fucked up. I kinda hate me too.”

The accusations don’t stop there. Most are back handed comments, a single flick of an eye, or a blatant “No” when he asks if they’d like an autograph.

It’s a long meet and greet.

* * *

“Danny?” Stiles begs as he waits for Derek’s set to finish so he can go on stage.

Danny looks him up and down before shrugging casually, easing Stiles by acting like he can’t see Stiles falling apart at the seams. “Drop and give me twenty.”

Stiles does as he’s told. 

Danny figured it out years ago that the endorphins Stiles gets when exercising distract him just enough to resist a high. Stiles is more than happy to do whatever Danny says, even if he complains as he counts them out.

Danny notices Stiles finish the reps easily so he tells him to tack on another forty. The last five have Stiles’ arms shaking. When he stands up he feels lighter, and Danny hands him a bottle. “How’re you doing?”

Stiles flexes dramatically. “Almost ready for my next underwear campaign.”

Danny shakes his head in no mood for Stiles deflections.

“I’m better. Thank you, seriously, for everything you do.” Stiles doesn’t say more, because deep down he knows he can’t lean on his friends forever. Stiles glances over on instinct to find Derek with his shirt off. “Fuck, me…” Stiles breathes. Just when he’s got a handle on things, Derek decides to shatter his entire brain.

Danny chuckles beside him.

Stiles fingers the baggie in his pocket, one pill and he won’t accidentally maul Derek when he comes off stage.

No. Stiles can handle this.

* * *

Derek hasn’t felt this alive in years, or ever for that matter. Since he focused all of his energy on tour, he’s finally seeing a future. There’s something about being single, and desired by thousands, that makes you feel more powerful than the leader of the free world. 

Derek towels off the sweat that’s collected across his chest as the next song starts. “[Stop ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsO93dCSsU0) _ stalling, make a name for yourself. Boy, you better put that pen to paper, charm your way out. If you talk you better walk you better back your shit up. With more than good hooks while you're all under the gun!” _

Derek struts across the stage, shrugging his shoulders playfully with the audience in the pit.

_ “Start talking ‘a sensationalist’. Oh, he's slightly clever to just a certain extent. If you talk you better walk you better keep your mouth shut. With more than good hooks while you're all under the gun.”  _

The stage lights burn his skin and he can feel the pebbles of sweat starting to roll down his skin, sinfully. He’s aware that his sweaty torso has collected more fans than their first EP, and lately he’s been exploiting it.

_ “It's time for us to take a chance!” _ Derek screams the line, Stiles far from his mind. Only the upward climb he and his friends are making. Never in his wildest dreams did he actually believe he’d make it here.

_ “Well we're just a wet dream for the webzine!”  _ Derek can’t ignore his thoughts of Stiles any longer, because the thoughts of his sweat gaining fans, leads to the second thing bringing them so much attention.

Stiles.

Their tryst is all the internet cares about right now, and this song actually highlights their issues too. Unfortunately. So, Derek was foolish to think he could get through one song without Stiles popping back up in his thoughts. 

_ “Make us it, make us hip, make a scene. Or shrug us off your shoulders. Don't approve a single word that we wrote!” _ Derek doesn’t look for Stiles, doesn’t give him the satisfaction. Derek doesn’t care. He can’t care. He repeats the chorus mechanically, and moves on.

The music slows and Derek swings his legs as he crosses the stage with a slow skip.  _ “Just for the record, the weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of: A. Indifference or B. Disinterest in what the critics say.” _

He’s tired. He’s tired of having to brace himself for more and more questions about his relationship with Stiles, or Kate, or his accident. He’s fucking tired.

They finish the song, repeating their points over and over, and not once does Derek look for Stiles hoping he’s struck a nerve. Call Derek petty, but he really wants to go toe to toe. He wants to know that Stiles is suffering like he is. He knows it’s wrong, but what does he owe Stiles?

Nothing. He owes Stiles nothing.

* * *

Stiles has managed to push Derek from the forefront of his mind for most of his set, letting the enthusiastic arena distract him, but the next song slams reality back down on him like a ton of bricks.

_ “[I'm sleeping](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkiZfq4z3ms) my way out of this one… with anyone who will lie down.” _ Stiles isn’t proud to admit that during the year he’d rather forget, he slept with people he couldn’t identify in a lineup if he tried.  _ “I'll be stuck fixated on one star when the world is crashing down!” _

Stiles points one way and then the other, reenacting the constant volley of his own thoughts. _ “I keep telling myself, I keep telling myself - I'm not the desperate type! But you've got me looking in through blinds. I keep telling myself, I keep telling myself - I'm not the desperate type!” _

Stiles swings his arm over his head aggressively, urging the crowd to do the same, and releasing some of his pent up stress.  _ “I'm sitting out dances on the wall! Trying to forget everything that isn't you. I'm not going home alone! Cause I don't do too well - I'm sitting out dances on the wall! Trying to forget everything that isn't you. I'm not going home alone! Cause I don't do too well on my own!” _

Stiles closes his eyes, remembering his recovery, and how the one thing that hurt the most was that Derek would never know how he felt. If only he had known then how much worse it was going to get. Now, Derek knows how Stiles felt, but doesn’t believe him. And why should he?

_ “The only thing worse than not knowing, is you thinking that I don't know. I'm having another episode, I just need a stronger dose!”  _ Stiles fights his internal monologue again, searching out the crowds energy to keep his mood up.

Stiles comes up behind Scott, desperate to get back to how things used to be.

Before the article. Before Derek joined them on tour, and Stiles ignored his friend's advice to just tell Derek. Before he got hooked on drugs after Derek’s accident. Before he chickened out, and abandoned Derek to recover on his own. Before he and Derek convinced themselves that telling Kate would be a bad idea. 

Even before Derek ever followed Kate on tour in the first place. 

Stiles wants his best friends back, and he wants to stop worrying about what they think of him.

He plays with Scott’s hair like they used to, and slams out a beat on the drums as they all sing happily. Stiles can’t tell if Scott’s acting or not, but he lets himself believe that Scott isn’t upset with him right now.

Stiles sits on the platform in front of the drums and lets himself feel the song one last time before he shuts his mind off for the rest of the night.  _ “I'm sitting out dances on the wall! Trying to forget everything that isn't you. I'm not going home alone! Cause I don't do too well on my own.” _

* * *

The problem is that Derek  _ likes  _ Danny. Everyone does. He wants to hate him, wants to believe that Stiles downgraded, but Danny’s a good person. Derek redirects his attention to his hands as they tune his guitar in the dim motel room. 

The bigger problem is that Derek gives a shit. Derek wants to pretend Stiles doesn’t exist, but he’s still drawn to him. Still dreams about him. And for some unknown reason, he still cares about the mother fucker’s well being. He wishes he didn’t, because every time he thinks about Stiles his mind wanders to the possibility of everything being true, and then he runs into the black hole in his mind. 

Derek shakes out his hands and strums a few chords, still trying to find a writing process that suits him best. It’s just after five in the morning and they’ve stopped at some run down motel because even Bobby partook in the night’s drinking. 

Derek only had a few, because his mind wandered far too close to Stiles and his thriving, sweaty form on the dance floor with Danny. Only a couple drinks in and he found his feet moving toward them ready to throw Stiles over his shoulder and carry him out of the club like Stiles belonged to him and only him. But that goes against everything Derek says.

He doesn’t understand why he has these impulses, he hates Stiles because he can’t trust him, and never will. Why does his mind and body want to claim Stiles so badly? It goes against all conscious thought. Derek groans, fingering the strings of his guitar and listening to his calluses buzz against them. Stiles really did a number on him.

Derek lets his eyes sweep the room to see everyone still snoring and unaware of his acoustics in the corner. Jackson and some girl are tangled under blankets. Erica and Boyd are on the other mattress where Erica is still hugging a bottle of champagne. There’s a cigarette still burning in an ashtray between the two beds and Derek watches the smoke curl around the room while he thinks back on the past few weeks of tour.

Since he and Stiles broke up, he’s noticed just how hard his friend's party, now that he’s not wrapped up in all that Stiles is. He’s started to get more involved with his friends lives again, partying included. It’s addictive, and Derek could easily see himself becoming some rock star cliche. He doesn’t want that. He has to keep his head.

But it’s so much fun though.

_ “[Who are these people?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHqGPsYxcNM)”  _ Derek studies Jackson and his newest notch in his bedpost.  _ “I just woke up in my underwear.”  _ Derek can’t imagine what that feels like. Waking up in bed with a complete stranger? No memory of the day before… actually… he knows exactly what that’s like. 

Derek looks toward Erica and her clutched bottle, desperate for a new line of thought.

_ “No liquor left on the shelf. I should probably introduce myself.” _ Maybe this is the best way to get over his trauma. If his life revolves around blackouts, maybe the black hole of lost memories won’t trigger him anymore. He knows it’s a dumb thought, but the irony makes him smile.

Derek thinks back to the height of the past year. When he thought the only way was up, and he didn’t care what anyone thought because he had found the love his parents had. He remembers the lip sync battle.  _ “You shoulda seen what I wore… I had a cane and a party hat. I was the king of this hologram. Where there's no such thing as getting out of hand.” _

Derek shoves Stiles from his mind.  _ “Memories tend to just pop up.”  _ He imagines what the rock star cliche would look like.  _ “Drunk pre-meds and some rubber gloves. Five-thousand people with designer drugs.” _ It doesn’t sound too bad.  _ “Don't think I'll ever get enough.” _

Derek puts the guitar down to search for some paper to write the lines down, afraid he’ll forget them. As he digs through his bag he hums to himself. _ “Alright, alright. Alright, alright, it's a helluva feeling though. It's a helluva feeling though.” _ He adds them to his newly found paper as well.

Derek sees himself in a similar hotel room in the future, a stranger in his bed, drugs on the night stand, a joint smoking in the ashtray, broken bottles around the room. Throwing himself recklessly between engagement just looking for another fix. Something to make him forget about the accident. Forget about what Stiles and Kate did to him, knowing that their names will remain a stain on his reputation no matter how far he tries to get from them.

_ “Champagne, cocaine, gasoline! And most things in between! I roam the city in a shopping cart. A pack of camels and a smoke alarm.” _ He doesn’t know where these words are coming from, they’re just falling from his lips. He knows he’s exhausted, and when he re reads them after catching some sleep on the bus, they might be crap, but for now he feels accomplished.

Logically, he knows the answers to his problems are not sex, drugs, and rock and roll. The appeal remains though.  _ “This night is heating up. Raise hell and turn it up. Saying, ‘If you go on you might pass out in a drain pipe.’ Oh yeah, don't threaten me with a good time.” _

He repeats parts he’s written, playing with sounds, smiling at the anonymity of this particular future. Never having to answer for what he’s done, just blame it on the price of fame.  _ “What are these footprints? They don't look very human-like.” _

Derek looks around at how his friends already skirt the edge of this lifestyle.  _ “Now I wish that I could find my clothes, bed sheets, and a morning rose!”  _ This isn’t what he wants. He wants…  _ “I wanna wake up. Can't even tell if this is a dream.”  _

Derek wishes he’d open his eyes and he’d be back in Stiles’ bunk, the past weeks only a nightmare. Instead he’s in a strange place, and even surrounded by friends, he’s never felt more alone. He’s just looking in on other’s lives.

_ “How did we end up in my neighbor's pool upside down with a perfect view?” _ He tries to count the stops they made on this night alone and loses count after five.  _ “Bar to bar at the speed of sound. Fancy feet dancing through this town.” _

They’ve been doing this for months, how did he not notice? Was he that wrapped up in Stiles?  _ “Lost my mind in a wedding gown. Don't think I'll ever get it now.” _ The future he imagined with Stiles can’t happen. He has to start over again.  _ “Don't think I'll ever get it now…”  _ He allowed himself to think he might have found the love his parents had, someone who would never hurt him like Kate. Someone who put him first, only to find out Stiles never actually put him first at all.

He goes over the lines again, arranging them into something worth listening to. He understands the appeal to writing now, he’s dealing with things as he creates something new. 

He doesn’t want to fall apart. He wants to be okay without Stiles, alcohol, or drugs. He wants to be strong enough to stand on his own. He wishes he could go back to when his life was simple as he pushed through college courses to grow up like his dad.

_ “I'm a scholar and a gentleman, and I usually don't fall when I try to stand.” _ But this is what he wants now. Being a rock star doesn’t mean he has to indulge, but he can pretend, convince the world he’s functioning. _ “I lost a bet to a guy in a Chiffon skirt. But I make these high heels work.”  _ He can fake it.

_ “I've told you time and time again.” _ Derek closes his eyes to see Stiles dancing with Danny again, and he fucks up the next line.  _ “I'm not as think as you drunk I am.”  _ He decides to keep it. Stiles is intoxicating, and Derek is ready for the tour to be over so he can leave and never see Stiles again.

_ “And we all fell down when the sun came up.” _ Derek strums slowly, hating what his life has come to, but finally understanding what he has to do. They just need to get through the tour and then Stiles will be gone. It’s as simple as that. _ “I think we've had enough…” _

* * *

“Hey, shithead!” Adore shouts as she bursts through the trailer door just as Stiles empties a new bag of pills into his palm. She freezes.

Stiles clenches his fist shut, and shoots her a fake smile, his skin still buzzes with excitement of his new goodies. He thought he had a few minutes to admire his treasures. “What are you doing here?”

She swallows before finding her earlier composure and skips toward him. “I hadn’t heard from you in a few days and I have a gap in tour so I thought I’d crash yours.”

Stiles feels the assorted narcotics embedding themselves in his palm at his side. He swallows unable to process his friend before him, as his mind quickly sobers, itching for another dose. 

It’s been just over a week since his accidental relapse. With his friends walking on eggshells around him, fans turning on him, media ambushes, and Derek flaunting Theo around in front of him... by the third day Stiles had gone through Aiden’s sample bag, and bought more that night at a club. Now, he’s throwing them back more than five times a day, and another five each night.

He’s been able to throw Scott and Isaac off his trail. He’s pretty sure none of them think he’s in danger of relapsing. They all think he’s getting better. The truth is Stiles has gotten better at hiding it. He only takes enough to take the edge off, to ease the telling wrinkles in his face, to allow him to smile and seem optimistic. He doesn’t appear to have recovered over night from his heart break so no one assumes drugs are to blame.

He’s just healing as far as they’re concerned. With them off his scent, Stiles allowed himself to believe he was okay, too. 

What has he done?

Stiles tries to come up with something natural to say with Adore looking at him expectantly when his sobering mind can’t maintain it’s easy facade. Stiles’ face falls and he opens his palm to look at the assorted colors and shapes.

Adore remains silent, and rests a hip against the counter. 

He wants to excuse his actions, tell her they’re vitamins, plead his case for needing them. “Killed the old me, but it seems the new me is worse.” Stiles admits, eyes still locked on his palm.

Adore steps forward with a smirk, cupping a soft hand around his and closing his fingers over the pills. “You’re just wasted and thinking about the past again.”

The corner of Stiles’ lip quirks up. “Did you just quote  _ Pierce the Veil _ at me?”

She bats her eyes. “Darling, you’ll be okay.”

Stiles drops his head, the tension in his shoulders relaxing at the ease of which his friend speaks to him. She’s not angry, not begging him to stop, not demanding they talk about it. She’s just…  _ there _ . He shouldn’t have expected any different either. She used to party with him, only she never let herself get out of control, and in turn kept him in control when they were together.

“I’m sick of acting like I’m okay.” Stiles admits, opening his hand again and picking one at random. He looks up at her eyes as they follow the pill up to his mouth. “I promise it’s different this time.”

“Different how?” She asks, not stopping him, but gently holding his wrist before he swallows. “You asked me to never let you get that bad again.”

Stiles knows there’s nothing he can say to reassure her, or even himself. He doesn’t want her to blame herself if he falls off the deep end. “You should probably go, I don’t want to bring you down too.” Everyone around him suffers because he’s too weak to handle his own shit. “Seriously, you should walk away and pretend you never saw me.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be fucking stupid.” She pulls him to the sofa and pushes him down on his back so she can stretch across him and pillow her head on his chest. 

Stiles lets out a shaky breath knowing what she’s doing. She’s locking him in place, but keeping her eyes off his because she plans to make him talk about his feelings. Stiles runs a hand through her green wig and hates himself for pulling yet another bystander into his mess.

“You know i’ll follow you down this fucked up rabbit hole, but first I want you to tell me why.” She traces circles in his chest.

Stiles stares at the ceiling. “Do you know what it’s like to wake up and hate every inch of yourself?”

She scoffs darkly. “You wake up and your first thought is ‘I can’t do this anymore.’” It’s not a question. She knows.

Stiles doesn’t have anything to say after that. He’s tired of explaining himself, he doesn’t want everyone to understand, he doesn’t want help, he doesn’t want to be pitied. He just wants to be  _ okay. _

They lie in silence for awhile as Adore continues to pet his chest.

“I understand,” she says. “I don’t have to go back to tour for a couple weeks, so I’m going to ride this thing out with you and keep an eye on your dumb ass, but is there anything you can say to reassure me that you’re not going to try and hurt yourself?”

Stiles thinks a moment. “There’s nothing I can say that you won’t question. All I can say is I’m only using uppers, no downers this time. I just want to smile again.”

She takes a deep breath. “Okay, Alice. Let’s do this.”

* * *

Adore watches the purple strobe lights flicker across Stiles’ face as their new bag of goodies slip between Stiles’ and Aiden’s hands in an intimate caress. To an outsider the two only appear to be engaging in an embrace shared between old lovers. Stiles says something that Adore misses under the loud bass throbbing throughout the bar. The man they were dancing with earlier calls to Stiles and he slips away as easily as he had greeted Aiden moments ago.

Aiden closes the distance between himself and Adore, his eyes following Stiles as he slips away easily, already popping a new pill into his mouth. “Should I cut him off?”

Adore flinches, knowing the answer should be yes, but selfishly she doesn’t want to lose her supply either. “Not yet.”

Aiden doesn’t respond as they both watch Stiles slip another pill to his dance partner, their heads thrown back in ecstasy.

Adore sighs, “Without the drugs, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know how to smile anymore.”

Aiden narrows his eyes at her. “He seemed to smile plenty while you two sang  [ _ The Hills _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iybm4OxNA48) tonight, if I didn’t know Stiles was head over heels for Derek, I’d think you two were fucking.”

She shrugs, “Who says we weren’t high?”

Stiles waves her over and she meets him out on the floor for her own dose of happiness.

* * *

Later that night Stiles finds himself in the hotel bar, bribing the bartender not to cut him off, begging for just one more Screwdriver and then another. Lucky for him, the bartender is a fan and doesn’t want to force Stiles to leave his bar. He shall receive a bountiful reward, Stiles decides. 

“S’yer name?” Stiles asks, appreciating the bars sweet cold comfort to his cheek.

“Sam… you already asked.” Sam focuses on the glass in his hand, visibly deflating.

Stiles rights himself. “I know - I know - I just meant like what is it short for? Like Samuel, Samm-y? Sam...wise?”

Sam laughs, “Samuel.” 

Stiles shakes his empty glass and Sam pulls the vodka from below the counter and grabs the orange juice. 

“If you don’t stop, you’re going to kill yourself.” Sam says matter of factly.

Stiles kisses his newly filled glass. “That’s the idea.”

* * *

“When was the last time you showered?” Theo complains as he scrapes Stiles off the floor of some VIP room couch. 

Stiles opens his eyes enough to see that the club is empty, and all the lights are up. He’s sure if he were conscious and sober he’d make a list of observations of the stark contrast of day and night in a club. But he’s still floating, so he lets Theo try to carry him out of the club. It’s his job, right?

Another voice tickles Stiles’ ear and he thinks it’s his imagination until he registers the specific words he heard. 

“He’s just keeping up appearances. He wants to look as broken as possible.” Derek says without emotion.

Stiles cuts his eyes to Derek, who looks squeaky clean, and healthy as a racehorse. 

Derek raises a challenging eyebrow at Stiles limp form over Theo’s shoulder. 

“Fuck you for acting like what we had together meant nothing to you.” Stiles spits, his voice ragged.

“Listen to yourself.” Derek points. “You’re the lead singer and you spend your nights shredding your vocal chords.”

Stiles lets Derek’s accusation roll around in his head for a minute. He knows he’s right. When he’s not in the middle of one of these episodes he tries to at least give his throat nights off. Stiles needs to drink though. The strain on his throat distracts him - “Vodka burns my throat,” Stiles starts, barely a croak.

Derek purses his lips, with a ‘no shit’ gesture.

“But your name hurts my head.” Stiles grimaces as Theo finally starts to drag him forward. “I’d rather black out with a hangover.”

“Well-” Derek interrupts. 

“Than stare at my hands trying,” Stiles closes his eyes and lets Theo lead him toward the stairs, leaving Derek behind him. “-trying to forget what it felt like to touch you.”

* * *

Derek’s sitting with Theo stage left, trying and failing to ignore Stiles and Adore’s display on stage. For the last two weeks Adore has been glued to Stiles’ hip, and Derek’s not miffed. Honest. But they do paint a pretty enticing picture, and their chemistry is off the charts. It’s easy to see why it’s one of the leading ships among the fans.

“Oh, fuck off.” Theo complains, waving an irritated hand at the stage.

Derek hides a smirk, having already picked up on the song Stiles had decided to cover tonight. His smirk dissipates as Adore struts across the stage, fucking Stiles with her eyes as she goes.

“[I'm just a bachelor,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AMN7GPY7dkY) ” Stiles starts. “ _ I'm looking for a partner. _ ”

Derek suddenly feels just as uncomfortable with the song as Theo just expressed.

Stiles breathes the words, a few feet behind Adore. “ _ Someone who knows how to ride, without ever falling off. _ ”

Adore hesitates, peeking over her shoulder, and adjusting how her hair has fallen. 

“ _ Gotta be compatible. Take me to my limits. _ ” Stiles comes up behind her, a hair's breadth apart.  _ “Girl when I break you off, _ ” Stiles breath sends her hair dancing back across her shoulder.  _ “I promise that you won't want to get off _ ”

The hair on Derek’s neck stands on end in memory of Stiles breath leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Adore whips around and throws Stiles into a chair center stage.

Stiles smiles, eyes glazed.  _ “If you're horny, let's do it. Ride it, my pony. My saddle's waiting. Come and jump on it.” _

Adore traces her fingers along his collarbones as she walks a circle around him.

As Stiles repeats the chorus, Adore settles behind him, licking the shell of his ear, causing him to shiver.

Derek’s not entirely sure they  _ aren’t  _ fucking.

She shoves Stiles’ head forward and struts back in front of him as Stiles begins the next verse. 

“ _ Sittin here flossing, peepin your steelo _ .” 

She braces her hands on his knees, still facing the audience, and rests back, curling her waist as she lowers her hips in front of his lap. 

Stiles grabs her by the waist and plasters her back against his chest. “ _ Just once if I have the chance...the things I will do to you. _ ”

Adore gasps through a wide smile. 

“ _ You and your body, _ ” Stiles sings, voice thick. “ _ Every single portion _ .” He drags his hands up her sides, then back down as he breathes heavy on her neck. “ _ Send chills up and down your spine… _ ” in a sudden move, Stiles spreads her legs, his hands clawing up her inner thighs. “ _ Juices flowing down your thigh… _ ”

As the chorus repeats, Adore grinds down on him, and Stiles slides his finger in her mouth. She sucks lightly, eyes white, she hops up and turns to straddle him. She reaches between them, before lifting her own finger to slip between his lips. 

Stiles swallows, eyes closed in a blissful state, and Derek finds himself mimicking the action before chancing a glance at Theo who has disappeared sometime between the start of the song and now. 

Stiles surges up, Adore wrapped around his lap.  _ “If we're gonna get nasty, baby.”  _ Stiles holds her up with one arm, while the other holds his mic between their chests. 

Derek notices a proud smile on Danny’s lips. Apparently, their grueling exercise schedule has done some good. Derek clears his throat as Stiles takes a few steps thrusting up into Adore.

_ “First we'll show and tell. Till I reach your ponytail…”  _ Stiles pulls her hair, her head falling back in a moan, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

Derek clears his throat, music too loud for anyone to hear. He hates his body for reacting like this. Stiles is the enemy.

_ “Lurk all over and through you baby, until we reach the stream.”  _ They trace their noses across each other with their profiles to the audience.  _ “You'll be on my jockey team.” _

They drop to the floor with Stiles resting between her open thighs as he repeats the chorus again. They grind, moan, and put on a show of softcore porn for the screaming arena. Adore’s rid Stiles of his common button up shirt, and has pulled his undershirt halfway up his back. Stiles ass grinds above her putting on a spectacular show. 

The lights dim over the last line, and they both moan into the microphone, until the song stops and they both begin to giggle uncontrollably.

It’s not until after they exit the stage for a brief break that Derek realizes that Stiles didn’t look at him once. Not even as he exit the stage. 

Derek realizes the performance wasn’t for him, and that maybe Stiles is done putting on an act for him.

Derek’s ashamed to admit that hurts a little.

* * *

Scott grabs Stiles backstage and throws him against a table of equipment. “What the fuck was that?” 

Stiles is stunned a moment before he rolls his eyes and looks to Adore as they fall into another fit of laughter. 

Scott shoves him just as he regains his balance. “Seriously, Stiles. We don’t care what songs you add to the set list each night, for whatever reason, but you can’t have sex on stage! That’s where we draw the line!”

Lydia appears out of nowhere, her arms crossed under her chest, and adds quietly. “That’s a new low even for you.”

Stiles shoves Scott back, his pill already burned through his system since the middle of the song. “Fuck off. The crowd loved it, and you’re still getting paid just the same.”

Lydia cringes. “Do you know what this is going to do to our reputation?” She searches for Stiles eyes, but he’s already checked out of the conversation. “Is this what you want to be known for?”

Stiles adjusts his shirt, cynicism surely written on his face. “ _ Known for _ ? Oh, I forgot. My current reputation consists of rainbows, and honey, right?” Stiles walks backwards with his hands outstretched beside him. “I’d rather be known for my promiscuity, than as the man who ruined Derek’s life.”

* * *

 

Stiles puts on basically the same performance in the next town with a cover of [Lollipop](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKQo9aYF22E) . And another in the next town, and the one after that.

* * *

Stiles wakes up to a blinding sun, bile in his throat, and aches only known by olympic athletes. He squints beside him and finds Adore already groaning her way to consciousness. “What day is it?” he asks, burying his face behind her head.

“The fuck is wrong with you? What kind of druggie doesn’t know what day it is?” she accuses.

Stiles frowns. 

They stare at each other a moment, and Stiles tries not to let the reality of her question settle in his mind. 

She barks a laugh. “Fuck, man. Shit if I know.” She reaches for the alarm on the bedside which reads just after ten. “I’m sure Bobby will come scream at us to get on the bus for the next city. Then we can look at your tour dates and figure out what year we’re in.”

Stiles sighs, and looks longingly at the bathroom. He should really shower before they load onto the bus. He’s sure he smells worse than some of the alleys he’s hooked up in recently. “I call first shower.”

“Fine by me.” Adore groans with a stretch. "But I call first tongue bath after.”

Stiles gapes at her before collecting himself, then he dives forward to tickle her. “Oh really now…” 

She giggles with her head thrown back and Stiles takes the opportunity to run his tongue up her neck. “Ew, gross! Do you have any idea where I’ve been?” 

Stiles giggles and rolls out of bed. “With me.”

“You wish.” She snarks, sitting up and trying to find her shirt on the floor.

Stiles picks up his phone on his way to the bathroom along with his bitch bag for mornings like this. The bag holds all of the essentials needed to collect oneself after a bender. Soap, toothbrush, charcoal pills, and some more exciting pills to reward oneself for making it through another night without seeing a hospital.

While he brushes his teeth, he leans back on the counter and starts sorting through his notifications. Allison’s in PR mode and wants to discuss the events of yet another erotic performance, which Stiles thinks he recalls as  _ Fuck the Pain Away _ , but he could be a week off on that. 

The days have started to run together, time only marked by each fix. He’s lost count of how many purchases he’s made, Ethan and Aiden have become essential members of his entourage. 

He has a text from Scott, threatening to call his dad. Stiles is too deep in his narcotic hangover to care. 

Isaac’s asks to have lunch before they get on the bus. Stiles deletes his message. 

Finstock sent some long string of threats if he finds out he’s using again. Stiles thanks his lucky stars that he never told Bobby that his drug buddies were Adore, Ethan, and Aiden. He must think they’re just friends keeping him straight. 

Theo’s pointing out just how fucked he is after the prior night's activities. Apparently he told the fans at the show that he only wanted Derek for his ass, “because look at it.” And proceeded to make crude gestures for ten minutes. 

Lydia told him that she’s done with him, and to get back to her when her best friend comes back. He responds with the ‘ok’ emoji.

Talia’s message gives him pause, but only briefly.  _ You’re making it hard for me to plead your case. Get it together.’  _ But Stiles recovers as Adore prances in with another fix ready to slip between his eager lips.

Chris has sent him an email with links to all of the articles this month that are circulating the most, making Stiles out to be a head case. Which might be the first thing they've gotten right in years.

Stiles rinses his mouth, takes the pill offered before him, and strips for his shower. 

“No one cares unless you’re pretty or dying.” He says aloud, not for anyone in particular, just to ground himself with the sound of his own voice.

* * *

Stiles missed the bus, and he finds himself for the first time in weeks without his partner in crime. She must have still been riding her high and climbed onto the bus like he should have and passed out before she realized he never joined her. She probably won’t wake up until they cross state lines in a few hours. The others definitely noticed he was missing, but Stiles bets they thought they’d be teaching him a lesson. 

Joke’s on them.

Ethan and Aiden have been tagging along half a day behind the bus, and show up bright eyed and bushy tailed after each show to get Stiles stoned, and party each night. Today they’re just leaving a few hours early and speeding through cities to try and get Stiles on stage on time.

Stiles is in the back seat with a joint in one hand, and a water bottle of vodka in the other. Day drinking for the win. 

As unpleasant as the vodka is going down, it keeps Derek close. Stiles strokes the neck of the bottle, thumbing the cap between his legs. 

“So they just left you, dude, what the fuck?” Aiden laughs from the front seat passing the joint back to Ethan.

Stiles grins without humor. Deep down he knows he’d have done the same on a good day. He’s a train wreck and his friends should get as far away as they can. 

Before Stiles can get too lost in his own self loathing, Ethan leans over him gripping his jaw tightly. Stiles doesn’t fight it and lets Ethan pry his lips open with a tongue and lets the clumps of chemicals start to dissolve between their tongues. 

Twenty minutes later Stiles lets his arm float over the rush of air out the window and imagines himself thousands of miles above the ground, and ignoring the fact that all that goes up must come down.

* * *

Stiles bursts through a metal door that leads stage left, with his limbs wrapped tightly around Aiden as his valiant steed. “Today we fight!” Stiles shouts, fist in the air leading the charge. 

Adore flips around at the sound. “What the fuck? Where the fuck were you, mother fucker?” 

Aiden comes to a stop in front of Adore, and Stiles doesn’t drop when he’s released. He squeezes his thighs tighter and buries his face in Aiden’s neck. If a tongue darts out that’s his business.

“Wrong twin!” Aiden barks, his whole body flinching away, which only dislodges Stiles in the slightest. 

Stiles glances over smiling to see Adore’s face blank, which isn’t a good sign when she’s rolling. Stiles drops and pulls her to his chest. “Do you need? I’ve got more.”

Adore shakes her head. “I didn’t even know you were gone.”

Stiles scrubs at her back. “Oh, well i’m very forgettable.” 

“That’s just it.” She pushes away, her eyes meeting his. “I forgot we were even hanging out or where…” she gestures. 

Stiles knows her words hold weight, but the second he starts worrying about her, he starts worrying about his friends too, and then the roof caves in. Stiles throws his wall up, and tries to figure out the best way to lure her on stage and start fresh. The stage has always been her happy place. Yeah.

“I’m just…” she whispers, eyes fallen. “I’m gunna go sober up a little.”

Which leaves Stiles standing alone, stoned, and suspended in a moment unable to move to the next.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rubs hands together like a fly on the wall* it's done guys. I finally finished this monster during Nano this year. This was the last chapter i'd written before NaNoWriMo, so I'm posting this now, and will get to work editing my NaNo work. I will post every couple days or once a week, hopefully. I promise this won't go on hiatus again, i'll sooner post unedited garbage, before I leave you all hanging for months at a time. 
> 
> I don't even know what this story is anymore. I've been through a lot with it, and I'm both excited, and sad to see it come to an end. Like, seriously. This didn't turn out to be a story, it's more or a television series, but without ending, because we're all marathonning it. This could have probably been multiple stories in a series, you know? It's a mess. Again, thank you all. Enjoy isn't the right word to use, considering the content of the chapter, but if you're like me... you get a sick pleasure out of these things. ;)\
> 
> I'll not get to work on responding to all of your wonderful comments that i've been stock piling all year :)


	28. ANGER pt 3: I'm gonna keep getting underneath you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing, and as a massive thank you, please enjoy another chapter I edited over my lunch break today :)

Left standing in Adore’s wake, Stiles knows he’s reached one of those important life altering moments. He knows in a movie he’d come to this fork in the road and make his hero ascension and get his life back together. However, Stiles can feel the pull of tiny clumps of peace in his pocket and knows he never had a chance at being the hero in this story. 

There comes a moment where you don’t want to stop. When you don’t want to get better. When you just don’t care anymore. He will turn left and continue on his descent into the cool, numbing, comfort that is his darkness. He wishes the best for Adore, in a distant corner of his mind he knows that once he sobers, he’d hate himself if he hurt her.

He pops another pill, the thought already slipping from his mind, and makes it to the side of the stage just as the crew finishes striking it for their show. He looks out on the thriving bodies, sweat slick. High on booze, drugs, and life.

Showtime.

Stiles is flexing his fingers when Theo appears.

“I’ve been calling you non-stop. Do you have any idea what time it is?” Theo’s face is red.

Stiles feigns a look at his watchless wrist. “I’d say it’s about time for a nice glass of ‘ _ go fuck yourself’.” _

Derek wiggles into his peripheral, just as his eyes glance across Stiles face, he pulls Theo by the collar of his shirt into the closest closet. 

Stiles pops another pill, plasters a smile to his lips as he refuses to acknowledge what he just saw, and jogs mid stage.

* * *

The show ends in a blur and all Stiles is thinking about is finding Ethan and Aiden, his high wearing thin, and his supply only residual dust at this point. He needs a fix. Soon.

Danny catches him in his dressing room while Stiles digs through his backpack for a loose pill that might have slipped out at some point, only to come up empty handed. Danny gives him a short wave and crosses his arms in the doorway. “Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t I be? Are you okay?” Stiles asks, mimicking his friends posture. 

Danny assesses Stiles’ expression. “I know i’ve been spending a lot of time with Jackson lately, and I don’t want you to think I’ve abandoned you.”

Stiles waves a hand, happy with the direction of the conversation. He throws his backpack over his shoulder and gives a cursory shove of his hair in the mirror before meeting Danny in the doorway. “Oh no worries, buddy. Things get busy on tour, I didn’t even notice.” The truth in Stiles’ words only startle him at all because he’s sobering all too quickly. He really hadn’t noticed Danny missing from his daily routine.

Danny steps aside and allows Stiles to pass. “You know you can call me the second you need me, right?” He asks, following Stiles out of the building through security. 

“Right! Of course.” Stiles turns on auto pilot and grabs Danny in a hug, his only goal to get Danny to move along so Stiles can resume operation Re-Up. “Now go find your man.” Stiles jokes with a pat to Danny’s back. 

Danny blushes.

Stiles smiles brightly, happy to have guessed right. The only things that have ever pulled Danny away from him have been work and boys. 

Danny jogs off in the direction of Jackson’s bus and Stiles throws himself onto his bus, vision blurring as he digs through his bunk for possible strays, with his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder alternating calls to the twins. 

He doesn’t find them for hours and when he does Adore’s with them and already high as the clouds. 

Stiles can’t wait to join her.

* * *

It’s five in the morning and Stiles finds the bus empty. He climbs in behind a stumbling Adore and they fall face first onto the main sofa. Adore positions Stiles below her straddle and fingers his pockets in search of their goody bag. 

Stiles wiggles his hips and twists over to throw open the drawer below him and retrieve two bottles of water and energy bars. He tosses hers her way as she shoves another bright tab between his lips. Stiles sits up below her, holding her back so she doesn’t fall backwards with the shift in gravity. Once steady they both focus on their small sustenance. 

They both rip open their bar and after a single bite Stiles declares his love.

“Aw, I love you too, boo.” Adore answers.

Stiles smiles, unsure if he was actually talking to her, or just the bar. Who knows. Both probably true.

Next thing they know the door bangs open and the Bianca Del Rio ascends the steps. Her eyes immediately snap to Adore’s guilty form, who collapses against Stiles chest, doing her best to become one. Stiles laughs at the ridiculousness of it all.

“You,” Bianca points at Adore, when she finally lifts her head to give her best puppy dog eyes. “Get your nappy ass in the car, i’ll deal with you in a minute.”

Adore pouts but does as she’s told and grabs her things quickly. 

Stiles grabs a blanket and starts getting comfortable, deciding the sofa a suitable bed for the night. 

As Adore exits the bus with a final wave, Bianca turns on Stiles. “You need to get your shit together, bitch.”

Stiles freezes, eyes wide, having never spoken more than greetings between them before. There’s something about Bianca though, in and out of Drag, that makes you listen and fear for your life. Stiles swallows.

She holds a palm out, placating. “I’m not ignorant to your situation, and I sympathize, hell you may not even be sober enough to remember me later.” She drops her hand with a loud clap at her thigh. 

Stiles secretly hopes he doesn’t remember, if he’s being honest.

“I only have time for one drug addict right now, and that’s the cotton headed dummy in my car.” She looks out the window, mind drifting somewhere else, somewhere maternal. 

Stiles hates that he let Adore down. He shouldn’t have let her stay. He was selfish. He’s always so fucking selfish. Stiles shoves another pill between his lips again while Bianca’s still facing away.

Bianca turns back, her maternal eyes tracing his features. “I know we don’t know each other, but I sincerely hope you have someone to help you.”

Stiles tries to give her a reassuring face? Is that what is expected in this situation? Should he give a thumbs up? Frown? He’s not sure. And judging by the pinch of her lips, he guessed wrong. The truth is he’s surrounded by people who would help him, but he’s not going to ask for it, and he’s past the point of accepting help. As far as he’s concerned, this is his life now. He’ll continue his constant ride of ups and downs, shows and naps, pills and snacks. 

It’s as though she'd read his mind. “It’s not too late, kiddo. You can still turn this shit around.” And with that she exits the bus and a few minutes later he hears the soft purr of her engine, before it fades away, lulling him into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Stiles’ head is pounding out of his skull as he wanders into the next venue. It has the faint smell of stale cigarette smoke, and his shoes stick with each step. He feels gross, and just wants a shower, a bottle of water, and some party favors to get him through the next few hours. 

Instead, as he’s making his way to his dressing room, he runs into Derek and Theo pressed against the hall wall, their breath loud and thick in the small dark space. Stiles flashes back to the day in a hotel months before, where he came up on Kate and Derek in an elevator, only to find out later that new Derek also hated Kate for entirely different reasons, so Stiles didn’t have to worry about that too much.

In this case, Derek is very much into Theo. Stiles still doesn’t trust him. He’s sure that even when he dies he still won’t trust Theo. He makes a mental note to specify his head stone’s inscription:   _ ‘Theo Raiken is still a shady mother fucker.’ _

Stiles pulls the baggie from his pocket and flips the bag a couple of times, trying to buy time before he takes another, he knows he just had one not too long ago, and he’s not trying to overdose. 

He takes long strides down the hall in search of his dressing room when he gets within a few feet of Derek and Theo. The door directly past them is his. They specifically saw his name scrawled in thick black ink on a piece of paper, and decided here was a great place to play tonsil hockey. 

Stiles steps behind Derek with a scoff under his breath. “Real mature.”

“What was that?” Derek asks, his head barely peeking over his shoulder toward Stiles, arms still under Theo’s shirt.

Stiles rolls his eyes, and pushes his door open. “Don’t fuck with my feelings just because you’re unsure of your own.” The words come out emotionless, and fall flat on the floor. The words are true, but Stiles is too numb to feel them.

Theo chimes in with a finger in the air behind Derek’s shoulder. “It’s called Karma and it’s pronounced ‘fuck you’.”

Stiles throws his bag on the floor of his dressing room, and turns back to Theo with his middle finger to his forehead. “My middle finger salutes you, sir!”

Derek’s head turns away from Theo, and stares down the hall away from them. “I let you in and you completely destroyed me.”

Stiles barks a laugh. “Honestly, who even gives a  _ fuck  _ anymore?” He immediately regrets it at the sharp jerk of Derek’s shoulders. Stiles is just tired of this act. The one where they both play a victim, and try to out victim each other. 

It’s fine, Stiles steadies his mind, Derek can be the victim. Stiles has admit defeat. He’s selfish, manipulative, and a drug addict. He’s obviously the bad guy here. Just google him and you’ll see just how bad he really is.

Derek turns sharply, eyes dark. “Clearly not  _ you _ . I knew none of this was real for you, you just wanted to  _ fuck  _ me.” 

Stiles bites his lip with a laugh, his baggie fisted beside him. “Let’s be real, Derek. If i’d only wanted to sleep with you, i’d have had  _ every  _ opportunity.” Stiles levels his eyes, letting Derek remember all the times he had thrown himself at Stiles, and how Stiles had shut it down. 

Derek steels his expression.

Stiles shrugs finally, stepping further into his dressing room, hand braced on the door. “Honestly, I should have just screwed you and gotten some closure.” Then Stiles shut the door, and downed two green tabs.

* * *

Derek managed to slip away from Theo in the hall and after a few minutes of deep breaths in his dressing room, he was summoned to stage. He’s making his way through his set mechanically, and fuming over his life and what it’s become. 

Derek’s moved past hurt, he’s fucking angry now. He wants to physically shove Stiles against a wall, and fight him. For awhile he was able to ignore this impulse because he and Stiles moved past the ‘woe is me’ stage, and Stiles started fighting back. They’d throw harsh digs at each other, and Derek knew he was striking nerves no matter how strong Stiles’ facade.

Only now, their encounters were growing far and few between. Derek literally had to plant himself outside of Stiles’ dressing room just to get a moment of release. An opportunity to spit in Stiles’ face and remind him that he’s an asshole, and that he’d moved on. 

Stiles was acting like he didn’t care, but Derek knows he does. He has to.

Everyone has come to give Derek more space than he asked for, even his friends. Boyd and Erica are planning their wedding and Jackson is glued to Danny. Which has left Derek with Theo and his persistent dreams of Stiles in hotel rooms and busses all over the globe. He wishes his brain would give it a rest. These light hearted dreams can never happen after what Stiles has done. Derek can never trust him again. 

But yet, they  _ persist _ . 

So his resulting frustration only intensifies each time Stiles walks by with Adore without noticing him, and carries on with his life like nothing’s happened. Stiles is back to living his rockstar life, with Derek only a gnat on his radar. 

As much as Derek wanted Stiles to give up the pity act from the first month after the article, he honestly wants that back over the new Stiles he’s come to see over the last two months.

He wants Stiles to come crawling back again, begging to explain, and pleading for Derek’s forgiveness. Deep down, Derek doesn’t want to admit nothing can ever happen between them because his dreams are too sweet for him to handle. He wishes they were real, that they could have that. But they can’t. 

The next song starts and Derek glances over on instinct to see if Stiles will watch his set tonight. He knows it’s a long shot, he hasn’t seen Stiles near the stage unless he was on it, for almost a month now. Stiles had given up.

Derek’s voice catches in his throat when he sees Stiles sitting under a table with a beer in his lap and his phone in the other, legs stretched in front of him and crossed at the ankles. 

_ “[Truth ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ww-n8ErQu6E)is that it was always going to end.” _ Derek sings, letting his eyes rest on Stiles with him none the wiser.  _ “This symphony buzzing in my head. Took a market of filth, and sold like summer.”  _

When Derek tossed the lyrics around with Boyd he’d originally meant these lyrics to be a jab at Stiles, and how he put on a show, but Derek realizes now that the truth is so much worse. It  _ was  _ always going to end. Even if Stiles had told him the truth up front. Derek hasn’t been able to admit that until now.

_ “True all of the good girls act so good, 'til one of them doesn't wait their turn.”  _ Derek glances at the audience, shoots a wink at the front row, and makes a wide arch across the stage. He continues sneaking glances back at the unaware Stiles still scrolling through his phone.

Derek thinks back on the last time he saw Stiles in this black henley. They were at his first meet and greet and Derek was about to bolt, when Stiles came over and soothed all his worry. _ “Turn the memory to stone, and carve your shoulder. Hey, holy roller….”  _ Derek lowered his voice, the sound resonating throughout the arena.

Finally, Stiles’ eyes flick up then back down before his eyes shoot up again with pinched brows to meet Derek’s eyes. Probably surprised at the sudden eye contact after months of ignoring each other. No indication of thought crosses his features though, so Derek steps forward to make sure his intention for Stiles is clear.

_ “If you wanna start a fight? You better throw the first punch. Make it a good one.”  _ Derek opens his arm to the side, urging Stiles to post up.  _ “And if ya wanna make it through the night?”  _

Stiles remains expressionless, thumb still hovering over his phone, and beer resting against his thigh.

_ “You better say my name like,”  _ This indifference bullshit needs to end, Derek wants Stiles to remember his name for the rest of his life. To say it every day. To face the constant reminder of what he lost _. “The good, the bad, and the dirty.”  _

Stiles face still remains slack, so Derek takes a moment to walk the stage and interact with the fans, trying to understand why Stiles is like this. He can’t be  _ that  _ good an actor, then or now.

_ “I know what it's like to have to trade, the ones that you love for the ones you hate. Don't think I've ever used a day of my education.”  _ Derek lifts a leg and braces himself against a speaker, then rest his forearm against his thigh, leaning forward and letting the sweat run down his nose. 

_ “There's only two ways that these things can go. Good or bad and how was I to know, that all your friends won't hold any grudges.”  _ Derek flicks a glance over at Lydia and Scott who are wrapped in conversation with Allison. _ “I got the final judgment.” _

Derek repeats the chorus with only a short glance to make sure Stiles is still watching.  _ “If you wanna start a fight? You better throw the first punch. Make it a good one. And if ya wanna make it through the night? You better say my name like, the good, the bad, and the dirty.” _

This lights dim and Derek pulls at the neck of his shirt.  _ “You've been gone so long, I forgot what you feel like, but I'm not gonna think about that right now.” _

He turns to Stiles.  _ “I'm gonna keep getting underneath you, I'm gonna keep getting underneath you.”  _ He rolls his eyes.  _ “And all our friends want us to fall in love.” _

Stiles finally takes a deep breath.

Derek rips his shirt over his head flexing dramatically, goating Stiles as he repeats the chorus again. When he looks back Stiles is downing his beer as he turns around the corner to go back to his dressing room.

* * *

When Derek exits the stage Stiles isn’t anywhere to be seen, so Derek takes a moment to check himself in a mirror and wipe the sweat from his skin. Stiles doesn’t reappear until his queue to go on stage. Derek places himself in Stiles’ path, only for him to shoulder past him with a muttered, “Derek, please. Leave me be.”

That just wouldn’t do. Where was the witty repartee? Derek needed Stiles’ energy focussed solely on him. Just for a few minutes.

* * *

Derek watches Stiles from across the bar as he throws back a line of shots with the twins that Derek hasn’t even bothered to learn the names of yet. He actually thought they were the same person for almost a month. Derek doesn’t see Adore anywhere, and he hopes that she doesn’t come back. If she’s not around to pull Stiles’ focus, maybe Derek can pull more of it for himself.

Derek ignores Theo as he whispers under his breath about how out of control and pathetic Stiles is. How he can’t handle his liquor, and how promiscuous he is. Same complaints, different day. Honestly, Derek doesn’t know what he sees in Theo, but he refuses to admit he’s only using him. There’s gotta be something more there, right?

“Shut up.” Derek finds himself barking as Theo sets off on an ugly tear of how Stiles nose looks like he face planted one too many times as a kid, and a red hot anger flares in Derek. He blames it on the handle of Vodka he’s been nursing for the last three hours.

“What did you say?” Theo says.

“Shut up.” Derek says through a growl, looking Theo in the eye. 

With a wide mouth Theo shouts back, “Are you kidding me? You’re defending him?”

Derek stands up, accepting the fact that he never really liked Theo. “This isn’t working out. I’ll see you around.”

Theo is left screaming at his back behind him, and Derek makes for the dance floor. He zeros in on Stiles dancing with one of the twins, tongue down their throat. Derek grabs Stiles’ wrist and drags him from the bar and back to Stiles’ bus. 

He has no idea what he plans to do with Stiles, but he’s not watching Stiles dance with anyone else anymore.

Stiles seems to trip more than normal, and the trip takes twice the time as Derek takes on more and more of Stiles’ weight. The fact that Derek finds comfort in the weight pressed against him, is no one else’s business. 

When they get to the bus, Derek holds the door open while Stiles climbs the stairs. Derek takes a look around the parking lot, smokes a cigarette as he grounds himself. He wants this. Stiles wants this. Stiles hadn’t fought him a moment, he knows exactly what Derek wants. They can finally just get this over with, and maybe Derek can relax. 

Derek keeps going back to Stiles’ earlier comment in the hallway before he slammed the door in his face.  _ ‘Closure _ .’ Maybe that was all they needed. 

An aggressive, desperate, sweat slick fuck, to give them both some closure.

With that thought Derek tossed half a cigarette and climbed onto the bus. When he gets in and looks around, he realizes he hasn’t been in Stiles’ bus in months, this was the same bus he spent half a year on with Stiles, the place that Derek fell in love with him. Derek’s eyes cast over toward the bunk and sees Stiles throw pills back and swallow down half a bottle of water in the narrow hallway. 

Must be fighting off the hangover, Derek should probably do the same. 

Stiles turns as he pulls his shirt over his head, and freezes with his head freed, and both arms still restrained by the shirt in front of him. “Der?” His eyes are hazy.

Derek closes the distance between them. The image of moles painting Stiles’ skin has his mouth watering. The moles he traced so many times with his tongue in both his dreams and the past year.

Stiles stumbles back and Derek closes the rest of the space with a slam of bodies. Stiles falls back against the bunks, and Derek bites a kiss to Stiles lips which elicits a moan from Stiles’ lips. 

Derek finds himself instantly hard and lifts Stiles’ pliant form and carries him to the sofa, throws him down, and falls between his legs. Stiles arches and bows below him, letting Derek do exactly what he wants. Derek takes advantage of every second relishing in the complete and total power he’s been given. He’d felt manipulated the entire time, second guessing every glance, but right now it was all about him. Stiles was going to take whatever Derek wanted to give him.

Derek bites dark circles into Stiles’ shoulder, making sure he has a constant reminder of what Derek did to him over the next couple days. 

Stiles hands slide delicately over his ribs, not urging Derek one way or another, which only serves to spur Derek forward. 

Derek fumbles Stiles’ zipper open, and takes just a second to look down and finally see what Stiles had been so careful to keep from him all year. Derek frowned, realizing it looked exactly like it had in his dreams, had he seen Stiles’ dick and not realized it because he had been so sexually frustrated that unless sex was happening he was lost in a cloud of lust? 

Derek grabs Stiles’ semi hard cock, and works him the best he can toward full form. Stiles sighs below him in strained bliss, and Derek drinks it in like lemonade, watching through blurry eyes as Stiles head rolls from side to side, his eyes screwed tight.

Suddenly the door crashes open and it takes Derek's glazed eyes a moment to adjust and realize it’s Scott. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Scott shouts.

Derek protests as Scott rips him off of Stiles. “What? This is what he wants!” 

“No it’s not Derek, you’re not stupid.” Scott doesn’t even look back at Derek as he helps Stiles back into his pants, and grabs Derek’s shirt from the floor to force over Stiles’ head and floppy incorporative arms.

Derek ignores how Scott looks as though this isn’t the first time he’s done this, as Stiles starts to drift off to sleep, before his second arm is even slipped through the sleeve.

This angers Derek, that Stiles could fall asleep so easy and these few minutes alone would leave Derek with a miserable set of blue balls for the rest of the night. “He wants to fuck me so bad, I figured I’d get it over with.” 

Scott looks up, mouth agape, and eyebrows screwed together. “He’s high as a fuckin kite, he doesn’t know what he wants!” Scott points to the unconscious body on the sofa, and the words die in Derek’s throat, knowing that something important is staring him in the face, but all he can think about is the raging hard on in his pants.

“High? What? He’s just drunk!” Derek argues, his voice growing louder.

Scott steps back, his voice suddenly very small. “You don’t even know what’s going on, do you?”

Derek gives him a dead look, not caring to hear about how Stiles is the martyr, blah blah.

Scott speaks slowly, each word a punch to Derek’s gut. “He’s got a  _ drug problem _ …”

Derek swallows, trying to hold onto his anger.

“He couldn’t handle losing you again so he started using again. How did you not notice? You think…” Scott pauses, a scoff puff between his lips. “You don’t know him at  _ all _ , do you?” 

Derek pinches his nose, trying to sober enough to find his bearings here. “That’s kind of the issue here.” 

“No, that’s not what I meant. You wanted to believe he was the bad guy so bad, that you ignored all the good he showed you all year.” Scott admonished.

Derek rolls his eyes but Scott’s tone held his attention. 

“He hated lying to you, but he was doing it  _ for _ you. He knew you, and knew you’d need to fall in love with him again first, he knew how you’d feel if you were stuck on tour with someone you couldn’t remember. He wanted you to be okay. As fucked up as it was, he did it all for  _ you _ .” Scott pokes Derek with two strong fingers.

“That’s bullshit.” Derek swats Scott’s hand away. 

“No, I’m done listening to  _ your  _ shit, when you  _ refuse  _ to listen to anyone else.”

Derek opens his mouth to defend himself, and point out how Stiles is the liar, but Scott powers right over him.

“I’ve watched you tear Stiles apart for months, and he takes all of it because he thinks he  _ deserves  _ it, and would never fight you back.” 

“But he’s been giving it right back… so obviously-” Derek points at Stiles’ drooling form on the couch. He pauses, finally takeing in the deep dark circles under his eyes, the hollow of his cheeks where he’s lost weight, and the deathly pale skin stretched between the moles his mouth watered for earlier. How blind had he been?

“Obviously, you’re an idiot. If he were sober, he’d never lash out. Since he started acting like an asshole, he’s been using. And you’re so goddamn selfish you didn’t even notice.” 

“How was--” Derek tries to argue, realizing that Stiles had been using for at least two months. 

“You know, I used to look up to you. We all wanted to be as good as Saint Derek, but I don’t even recognize you anymore.” Scott whispers, eyes not even meeting Derek’s.

Derek’s mouth snaps shut, ashamed at the honesty in Scott’s voice.

Scott doesn’t say anything and carries an unconscious Stiles down the hall to his bunk, leaving Derek to rethink everything he thought he knew. 

* * *

Stiles wakes up to a migraine, and a crying bladder. He just short of falls out of bed to go to the bathroom in the small bus restroom, then heads for the kitchenette to grab a cold bottle of water and advil. After he’s downed one more than what’s recommended, he reaches into his pocket and comes out empty handed. 

Suddenly very awake, Stiles searches his pockets further, and then runs back to his bunk. He’s throwing everything to the floor around him when Scott peaks out across from his bunk behind Stiles. 

“I threw ‘em out.”

Stiles blinks out the window across from him, trees flying pass on their transit to the next show. “You,  _ what _ ?”

“I threw them out after I had to shove your dick back in your pants.” Scott says.

Turning half way, trying to recall the night before, Stiles responds, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You should just leave me alone, I can handle myself.”

Scott twists to plant his feet on the ground in front of Stiles, his elbows braced on his knees. “I’ll leave you alone if you can tell me what happened last night.”

Stiles turns the rest of the way toward him, arms crossed. Such a simple question, and Stiles can’t remember a blink of the day before.

“How about where we’re going? Where’s the next show?” Schott challenges.

Stiles swallows, knowing he lost track a month ago, at least.

“Or what day it is?” Scott asks quietly.

Stiles feels the curtain behind his knees shift, and then Isaac’s feet slip out like Scott’s.

Isaac looks up at Stiles, eyes bright. “Do you even know where Adore went?”

Finally something Stiles can answer. “Yeah, Bianca came and picked her up last week, she’s fine.”

Isaac frowns.

“What?” Stiles asks, eyes switching between the two. “She’s okay, right?”

Scott clears his throat. “That was yesterday morning, not last week.” 

Lydia comes down the hall, arms crossed over her t-shirt gown. “Bianca called us last night to let us know how Adore’s doing. She’s in bad shape, and was just admitted into drug rehab.”

“No…” Stiles says, walking backwards toward the front of the bus. They had taken care of each other, they were okay, they’re totally fine! Stiles does his best to ignore the voice in his head begging for a pill, because he knows that if the only thing that will make him feel better is narcotics, then he belongs right beside Adore in rehab.

Stiles finds his half crushed pack of cigarettes on the floor, and a lighter on the kitchenette counter, and lights up. He knows they don’t smoke in the bus, but that doesn’t seem to matter to him right now.

The other’s join him up front, and Lydia opens the windows to try and suck out the smoke. 

Stiles takes a long drag, his nerves only settling the slightest. With all eyes on him, he mumbles. “I’m fine, really.”

“Then answer my questions.” Scott replies, no argument in his voice. “What happened last night, where are we going, and what day is it?”

“Who cares?” Stiles deflects. “Maybe you should worry more about you, i’m an adult and I can handle myself.”

Lydia scoffs, “Clearly not.”

Stiles turns to argue.

Scott grabs him and shakes him by the shoulders. “What happened last night, Stiles?!”

“I don’t know!” Stiles shouts, his voice cracking. Stiles takes another long drag from his cigarette, knowing that he must have done something awful last night, or it wouldn’t be such a big deal right now. Stiles thinks back to what’s been said to him that could give him a clue. “Scott, did I-” Stiles chokes, remembering Scott saying he had to shove his dick back in his pants. “Did I try to sleep with you last night?”

Scott shakes his head. “I don’t think any amount of drugs or alcohol would make you want to sleep with me, bud.”

“Oh, thank God.” Stiles takes another drag and scrubs at his forehead, oil coming off on his hands, indicating it’s high time for a shower. 

Scott’s voice smoothes at the edges. “You’re on the right track though.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “So I tried to sleep with someone, was it anyone in this bus?”

They all shake their head.

“Guys, I hook up with strangers all the time, why would last night be so bad? I never bring them back on the bus so it’s not like they could have stolen something.”

“It wasn’t a stranger that I pulled away from you last night.” Scott says, voice still quiet.

Isaac glides a hand over Stiles’ back, and up into his head to scratch at his scalp. “You really don’t remember anything that happened yesterday?”

“If I did I wouldn’t still be sitting here waiting for you guys to tell me.” The fight drains from his voice as he leans back into Isaacs long fingers, that probe at his temples where his migraine still pulses. 

Both Isaac and Lydia look toward Scott. 

Scott scoots forward in his seat, reaching out to squeeze Stiles’ knee. “Don’t freak out, none of us know what led to it, which is why we were hoping you’d remember something from last night.”

Stiles takes another drag. 

“I saw Derek drag you out of the bar last night, so I followed. When I found you guys alone in the bus, he was on top of you, you were half awake, and he was jerking you off.”

“And you stopped him?!” Stiles shouts, deflecting. That’s a memory he wished he had. Derek finally wanted to sleep with him again? “I need to talk to Derek, right now!” Stiles jumps to go find his phone.

Isaac holds him back.

“Stiles, I followed you guys because Derek looked angry. I haven’t seen him look that homicidal since those first few months we met when he was still dating Kate.” Scott scoots closer. “I was worried about you, but hoped he was just finally wanting to talk, to clear the air and finally  _ listen  _ to you. When I didn’t hear talking I opened the door and found him pinning you down, but the anger still clear in his eyes.”

Stiles fills his lungs with more smoke, he needs to talk to Derek, obviously Scott was misreading Derek’s face for pure love. Derek loves him again. That’s what happened, and Scott fucking cock blocked him.

“You need to get clean.” Lydia says, voice serious. “This has gone on long enough.”

“You guys knew?” Stiles blinks, thinking he’d kept himself under control. “Does Finstock know? Danny?”

Isaac answers, “If Bobby knew, we wouldn’t still be on tour, and your ass would have beat Adore to Rehab. Danny figured it out a couple weeks ago, and blamed himself for not seeing the signs. When he couldn’t get through to you he told us, but we already knew too.”

“When he tried to get through to me? He never said anything! And there’s no way you guys could have known, you’re just leaning on hindsight.” Stiles scoffs, lighting another cigarette after he drops the butt of his last into an almost empty bottle of water.

Lydia raises a brow. “Are you sure about that? You can’t remember last night, let alone the last couple months.”

Scott puts a hand on Lydia’s shaking shoulder. “We’ve been trying to get through to you for over a month now. We’ve fought over this over and over. This is the first time we’ve spoken to you sober, you’re literally high every second of every day. You don’t eat, you forget lyrics to songs you’ve sang a million times, you treat everyone like shit… how were we not to notice? You think just because we don’t see you take the pills, that we wouldn’t notice the fact that you turned into an empty shell? Do you really think that little of us?”

Isaac removes his hand from Stiles’ scalp. “We tried to understand, we hoped it would be a phase, and that you’d figure this out for yourself, but you haven’t and you’re not going to. You’re killing yourself.”

Stiles eyes burn with need for a high, sweat runs down his nose, and soaks through his shirt. His friends must think they’re getting through to him because their eyes soften at the corners. 

He leans back and watches the cars as they pass by, and smokes his way through his cigarettes. He imagines he looks like he’s carefully re-evaluating his life’s choices, but all he’s thinking about is finding Aiden for a re-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I love you all. There's nothing more to say. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. xoxo


	29. BARGAINING: You loved me once, and now you bring me pain.

Before the bus has even come to a complete stop, Stiles bolts. He’s already texted Aiden, and they are about a half hour behind them, so he hurries into the arena to distract himself with a shower and clean try to clean himself up a little. 

In his dressing room he finds an old bottle of bottom shelf vodka. He thanks the gods, and greedily chugs half of what’s left. His body sings with what little relief the liquid offers. Soon, he’ll have what his body really needs.

He showers, and gets ready for another miserable meet and greet, where he has to smile and pretend he doesn’t notice the judgement in each fan’s eyes. 

He’s yet to see Derek and he kind of hopes Derek goes back to ignoring him. As much as he wishes he could believe a switch flipped in Derek’s heart overnight, Scott's words tickle the back of his brain. 

_ Homicidal _ ? 

Stiles isn’t in any kind of place to fight with Derek right now. He needs to be very very high for that or he might break the fuck down and wish for a mercy killing. His sobriety is heavy on his shoulders and he’s thinking rationally for the first time in lord knows how long. 

Stiles understands his need for narcotics is a result of the pain associated with losing Derek. So essentially, Derek and drugs go hand in hand. Both go hand in hand. The truth is Stiles has always been an addict, he realizes. He fills his holes with fame, love, drugs, alcohol, and Derek.

Aiden shows up in his room just as he’s climbing out of the shower, towel still in his hair, and unabashedly standing in his birthday suit too relieved to think past the delivery standing before him. 

“I could fucking kiss you.” Stiles smiles, grabbing his dealer's face, and planting a wet one on his cheek.

“Wrong fucking twin, crack head.” There’s laughter in Aiden’s eyes. 

“Thank you for hightailing it. My friends think they’re doing me a favor, and ruined my whole morning.” Stiles says as though all they did were eat all the bacon.

Aiden looks around as Stiles picks his party favors from Aiden's bag. “They just love you.”

“You’re my dealer, you shouldn’t encourage me to listen to my friends.” Stiles reminds him, in no mood for another heart to heart. From his friends, his sobriety, or at the very least his dealer.

Aiden looks at him with pinched brows. 

Stiles pulls a wad of cash from his wallet and holds it out to Aiden. 

Aiden steps away. “What are you doing? I don’t sell to you.”

“What?” Stiles asks, ready for the exchange to be over so he can find his next high in peace.

“I know I should, because I could make bank off of you alone, but I don’t sell  _ you  _ drugs.”

Stiles blinks at him suddenly very confused. 

Aiden hesitates, thoughts visibly crossing his face. “I give you whatever you want, and you let us follow you on tour. We’re making plenty of money just off of your contacts, not to mention we get to travel the world.” Aiden pushes the money away, annoyed that Stiles continues to miss the point. “I’m not taking your money.”

“Oh yeah.” Stiles swallows, shoving the money back in his pocket, and grabbing two blue pills to toss back, patience wearing thin. 

“I know you’re high most the time, but there’s no way you didn’t know you didn’t pay me.” Aiden adds.

“I just wanted to pay you for rushing to me, but you didn’t give me a word in edgewise.” Stiles deflects, turning to find the bottle of vodka to wash down the pills.

“Sure, okay.” Aiden says, heading out the door to meet someone in the hall who called his name. 

* * *

When Derek finally found the nerve to look for Stiles. He finds him in his dressing room, bottle of vodka on his chest, and lazy words slipping from his lips where he lie on an old sofa. 

After a short debate of turning and walking away, Derek knocks gently to get Stiles’ attention. 

Stiles barely glances at the door before dropping his head back down.

“How are you doing?” Derek asks, unsure of how to address what happened last night. His instincts torn between defending himself, and apologizing.

“You just want to know if I remember last night.” Stiles mutters, cutting straight to the point.

Derek looks down, he kind of hoped Stiles’ wouldn’t. Then he could move on and pretend he never took advantage of an inebriated Stiles, and he could slip back into his anger. It’s just easier that way.  “I didn’t know you were high, I thought you were drunk. I thought you wanted it too.”

“What did you want exactly?” Stiles asks, eyes far from Derek’s. His eyes remain focussed on the bottle above his chest, and the slow slide of clear liquid rolling from one end of the bottle to the other. 

“I… I don’t know.” Derek answers honestly. “I was pretty drunk too.”

Stiles sits up suddenly. “ _ I _ know what you wanted.”

Derek braces himself, knowing he deserves Stiles’ anger right now. Sure, Derek has every right to be mad at Stiles, but last night was inexcusable.

“You want to be with me.” Stiles says simply, his eyes hard on Derek. 

Derek wants to deny it, but deep down he knows it’s true. It’s the main reason he’s fought Stiles so long. He wants him in his life, but he can’t imagine ever getting over this betrayal.

“But you don’t know how to get over your own shit and admit it.” Stiles hits the nail right on the head. 

Derek hardens his face, not ready to admit it.

“So,” Stiles continues. “Instead, you dragged me away from my friends and tried to hate fuck me.” Stiles blinks at his lap after a long moment, like he hoped Derek would deny it, but Stiles was right. 

Derek shoves his hands in his pockets shame suffocating him.

“Scott told me he followed us, because you looked homicidal.” Stiles says, voice void of emotion similar to the last two months. “ _ Homicidal _ , Derek.” Stiles looks up at him, eyes empty with a distant hint of sadness. “You can’t play the victim if you’re victimizing people yourself.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“You can’t have it both ways.”

Derek stands frozen and ashamed as Stiles walks around him and disappears down the hall.

And this may just be the worst day of Derek’s life.

* * *

**Bargaining.**

After Derek’s set he finds Stiles in a room with the twins and a dozen other people who are throwing pills back, toasting glasses of liquor, and lighting a number of illicit drugs. How had no one realized that Stiles had taken such a sharp turn for the worst?

Derek can’t help but think that it’s his fault. Stiles had told him that he’d had a drug problem in the past, that it was the only thing that helped after he lost the man he loved. Now Derek understands that was him. That Stiles really did love him, because had he not, he wouldn’t need drugs this bad. 

Derek has to accept the fact that he broke Stiles. But also reminds himself that Stiles broke him too. 

This whole time, Derek wanted to hate Stiles, to make him pay for the fact that they couldn’t be together, but maybe Derek is actually just as bad for Stiles as Stiles is for him. They both seem to hurt each other in the worst way. 

Derek feels the anger drain right out of him. He can’t find it in himself to be angry anymore. Yes, Stiles lied, but he never hurt him. And Finally, Derek acknowledges all the proof of how Stiles never took advantage of him once, as much as Derek tried to convince himself he had. 

He wishes he had someone to talk to right now, to help him work through his shit, but he’s isolated himself these past months just like Stiles. He let Theo comfort and distract him, and Derek took advantage of it all.

In a fucked up way, one of the main attractions to Theo was that he had a direct connection to Stiles because he was hired by the label as his handler. Being Stiles handler, also came with a lot of shit talking, so Derek was able to share in his anger and annoyance every night. Theo would listen, and nod, and validate all of his feelings, where everyone else tried to plead Stiles’ case. 

Derek just wanted to be allowed to be mad. To be taken seriously. Theo gave him that, but Derek realizes now that was all Theo gave him. 

They weren’t anything more than bitch buddies. They didn’t share other interests, or care about each other’s families, or laugh at each other’s jokes, or send each other cute texts. 

Theo wasn’t Stiles. 

They may not be able to make things work as a couple, and frankly Derek doesn’t think he deserves it after all he’s put Stiles through these months, but Stiles could use a friend right now. Maybe Derek could be his friend. 

* * *

After his set, Derek seeks out Stiles but can’t find him. He had decided he was going to wish him luck, baby steps right? The first step being that he stop ignoring Stiles, and offer him a shred of kindness here and there. But Stiles is nowhere to be seen.

When Stiles finally appears, he bolts past Derek, and starts his show like nothing’s wrong. 

Derek watches Aiden who came from the same door as Stiles had, and catches a discrete exchange. So thats who’s been supplying him. Derek isn’t sure how to address this, but he knows he will. 

* * *

When the intermission hits, Derek misses Stiles come off stage because he’s hunting the halls for the twins to tell them to get lost and never come back. Fifteen minutes later Derek overhears Bobby calling for Stiles. 

Derek follows the voice to find a red Finstock. “Hey, Bobby. What’s up?” 

“Do you know where Stiles is? We can’t find him, and intermission ended five minutes ago.”

Derek shakes his head, suddenly worried that Stiles has overdosed in a closet somewhere. “God, please no.” Derek breathes, barely audible, his heart a rocket.

They listen to the crowd grow more and more impatient, and scramble like roaches to try and find him.

* * *

Ethan shoves Stiles toward the door. “Dude, you still have half a show to do! They’re probably looking for you.” 

Stiles laughs, and throws another shot down. 

When he comes out, the lights are dim in the arena, and a single blue light illuminates Lydia at her keyboard. Finstock holds Stiles back as Lydia begins singing.

_ “[It’s a cold day ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOA04fF6o08)in hell, a cold day in heaven. We watched as stars fell, and oh you know we let them. We said it’ll never happen, we said it’ll never happen to us.” _

The look in Finstock’s eyes tell Stiles all he needs to know. Everyone knows about his problem, and he’s in big trouble. But all Stiles can do is listen to Lydia, and the swell of emotion in her voice.

Scott comes in with a beat, and Stiles realizes this song has been rehearsed.

_ “Keep thinking about when we started, so innocent.”  _ Lydia continues.  _ “Your heart was a mess and I was lost in it.” _ Lydia looks his way, surprise barely appearing as she notices him there.  _ “Keep thinking bout the day that we met, and how you’ve changed.”  _ She points at him with a delicate finger, her body curling with the music.

Stiles averts his eyes, no amount of drugs could give him immunity to Lydia’s voice.

_ “You loved me once, and now you bring me pain.”  _ She looks back toward the audience, Isaac having come to stand next to her.  _ “Keep thinking that I will say goodbye. Made a promise that you won’t see me cry again!”  _ The passion undeniable in her voice. 

All of them sing together, and Stiles tries to sink in on himself. He never meant to hurt all of them. He almost wishes they would just give up on him. He’s tired.

_ “It’s a cold day in hell, a cold day in heaven. We watched as stars fell, and oh you know we let them.” _ She pounds on her chest with a fist. _ “We said it’ll never happen, we said it’ll never happen to us.  But it’s a cold day in heaven, my love!”  _

Derek comes up next to him, and Stiles can’t bear to face him. The drugs clouding his mind only allow his focus to remain on one thing at a time.

_ “The sky’s dark and the flowers are frozen, the world is hushed. Our guardian angels have turned their backs on us. Something broken, I thought I could fix it, but it’s broken me.”  _ Lydia holds her stomach with one hand, the other grabbing her microphone.  _ “Your kisses are poison and all your words are treason! I’m walking away, you won’t hear me say…”  _ She takes a deep breath, lifts a hand to the lights above her, throwing her hair behind her shoulder.  _ "I love you.” _

Scott and Isaac sing together as Lydia wipes her face.  _ “Look at all the stars they have fallen. There’s nothing left to wish on. The sun it doesn’t rise in the morning, It’s frozen.”  _

Jackson steps out and takes over the keyboard, and Lydia steps forward, her hand reaching for the front row, her eyes glittering in the spotlights.

Scott and Isaac continue. _ “Look at all the stars they have fallen, there’s nothing left to wish on. The sun it doesn’t rise in the morning, It’s frozen!” _

Lydia belts,  _ “It’s a cold day in hell, a cold day in heaven! We watched the stars fell, and oh you know we let them! We said it’ll never happen, you said it’ll never happen to us! Now it’s a cold day in heaven, my love!” _ Her voice bounces off the walls of the arena like light off a crystal, ringing strong and bright. 

Stiles hasn’t heard her sing this passionately since high school talent shows.

She cups the microphone in gentle hands, and finishes looking heavy with exhaustion. _ “Cold day in heaven, my love.” _

Stiles throws another pill back, then turns to Derek. “I wish you never came back.”

* * *

After the show Derek finds Isaac alone and takes advantage of the opportunity. Stiles’ words still ringing in his head. “Hey, can I talk to you a minute?”

“Uh, sure.” Isaac leads him toward his dressing room and shuts the door behind him. They sit down and Derek starts.

“How long has Stiles had a drug problem?” Derek asks, getting straight to the point. 

“Do you mean this time, or when he first developed a problem after your accident?” Isaac asked quietly.

Derek scrapes his bottom lip with his teeth, so both times were because of him. And he can’t deny that that sounds like a result of a broken heart. “So it’s safe to say it’s my fault then.” Derek admits out loud, guilt burning itself into his skin.

“No.” Isaac interrupts with a hand on Derek’s knee. “No. Stiles’ drug problem, is his own. You can’t blame yourself for his dependencies. There’s a lot of blame to go around, but none of it lands on you.” Isaac glances at the floor, and busies his hands with packing his things and zipping his duffel up.

Derek nods. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Isaac shrugs. “We aren’t even really sure how to help him, ourselves.”

“How’d you guys get him to stop before?” Derek asks.

Isaac wipes the corners of his mouth with a hand. “He found something to live for, something to be strong for.”

“What was that?” 

“Our fans. Even when he was falling apart, our fans would constantly remind him how important he was in their lives. He found strength in his music, and knowing that his pain was doing something. He was able to help, even just a few people was enough for him.”

“Okay, so how can we make him see that again.” Derek asks, like the solution is obvious.

Isaac shakes his head. “It’s not that simple. That won’t work this time.”

“Why not?”

Isaac scrubs his palms across his knees. “Our fans aren’t exactly fans of Stiles any more. He’s taken a huge hit to his fanbase this year.”

“Come on, that’s impossible.” Derek shakes his head.

“At every meet and greet at least five fans say something hateful to Stiles. Half of them walk right past him, and the other half only get an autograph out of pity, or obligation. Even the few that come through and thank him for his music aren’t enough to make Stiles want to fight. He doesn’t even want to attend the meet and greets anymore. I’m sure this is the last tour we’ll have with them.” Isaac heads for the door. “If there even is another tour.”

Derek scrubs a hand through his hair. He feels like the only thing that will bring Stiles back is if he forgives Stiles, but he can’t push his own feelings aside, just so someone will stop using drugs. But he doesn’t know how to stand by and watch someone tear themselves apart if there’s something he can do about it. Then a thought occurs to him. “I know who his dealer is!”

“So do we.” Isaac answers, hand on the door knob, and his bag thrown over his shoulder.

“Why haven’t you gotten rid of him, then?” Derek barks, frustrated with how defeated Isaac sounds. They need to be rallying the troops, coming up with a war plan, not cowering in corners feeling sorry for themselves.

“Because it’s not that simple.” Isaac sighs. “Sure, we could kick Ethan and Aiden out of every venue, but they could still find him at bars or on the road after every show. We could only keep them out of venues, the busses, and hotels. Then, Stiles would sneak away more, he could get hurt out there unprotected.” Stiles lifts a hand to the side. “Or, say Ethan and Aiden really did stay away. Stiles would find another dealer. Maybe one who decides to extort him, or threaten him for more money, or worst of all, sells him dirty shit, and Stiles OD’s in some bar bathroom.”

Derek’s heart skips a beat at the thought of Stiles dying. 

“At least with the twins we know that he’s safe.” Isaac wipes the corners of his mouth, eyes on the floor. “Or at least as safe as he can be.”

Derek nods his understanding.

Isaac stands to leave, but stops with a hand to Derek’s shoulder. “You know when you’re in a car and it’s pouring down rain?”

Derek imagines it.

“Then you go under a bridge, and just for a moment, everything is calm? Everything is quiet. Then you come out the other side right back into the chaos. The  _ drugs  _ are Stiles’ bridge.” Isaac says. “We just have to find another bridge.” 

* * *

Stiles takes the steps onto the bus quickly, his blood tickling under his skin. He spots Lydia on the sofa with her phone, most likely tweeting about her song tonight. “Quite a performance!” Stiles calls, voice jovial. “How long have you guys been working on that?” Stiles winks at Lydia. “Was that the first song you’ve written?” He teases.

“Am I talking to  _ sad _ Stiles, or  _ sadistic _ Stiles, because I am in no mood for the latter.” She answers without lifting her head.

“Awe, come on Lyds.” Stiles coos. “I’m just poking fun. It’s me! I’m all back to normal, this is what you all wanted right?”

Lydia rolls her eyes. “You think you can plaster a smile on your face and convince everyone you’re not still using? How stupid do you think we are?”

“It was worth a shot.” Stiles shrugs, grabbing a bag of chips from the cabinet. The bus starts, and within minutes they’re on the road. 

Suddenly, Scott, Allison, Isaac, Danny, and Bobby walk up from the back of the bus. Stiles looks around and notices the collective look on all their faces. “What the fuck is this?” Stiles stands.

“Stiles,” Lydia starts, with her mom voice.

Stiles looks over at her, eyes burning. “Is this a god damn  _ intervention _ ?” He turns to bang on the door to whoever’s driving the bus, to tell them to stop the bus immediately. He feels a hand reach in his pocket and turns to find Lydia digging for his drugs. Stiles shoves her hard, and she falls back against the sofa, Isaac barely catching her. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Stiles bangs harder on the door. “STOP THIS GOD DAMN BUS!”

“Stiles!” 

Stiles freezes, eyes stinging with the new voice ringing in his ears. A voice he hasn’t heard in weeks, months maybe. When was the last time he made his promised call? Surely, he wouldn’t forget, even if he were high.

“Apologize.” 

Stiles bangs on the door a couple more time, strength fading, already knowing it was a lost cause, just like him.

They all stand in silence, only the low rumble of the road beneath their feet. 

With a sharply cleared throat, Stiles flinches and mumbles an apology.

“Now turn around, and look at me.”

Stiles turns slowly, suddenly self conscious, having no idea what state he’s in - physically, or geologically. 

There, right in the middle of all of his friends (if you can even call them that anymore) is his dad. 

“Apologize to Lydia.” John crosses his arms. “Now, son.”

Stiles drops his eyes to Lydia’s feet, unable to meet her eyes. “M’sorry.”

Lydia doesn’t even get a chance to respond as John walks up to Stiles with one hand out. “Give ‘em here.” 

Stiles blinks up at him.

“Now, Stiles.”

Stiles feels like a child, and slowly hands over his bag, wishing he’d thought to have a spare somewhere after Scott took his drugs last time. 

His dad flicks it between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand a couple times. “I never thought I’d be taking drugs from my son, I was sure your mom and I raised you better.”

Stiles doesn’t try to excuse his actions. He keeps his eyes averted.

“Now sit down. It’s time we all have a little chat.”

* * *

Stiles spends the next couple hours entirely silent, listening to all of his friends tell him how much they love him, and how much it hurts them to see him like this. How they will always be there for him, and they can get through anything as long as they stick together. 

They tell him about some of the worst things he’s subjected them to these past months, and how shitty a friend he’s been, but how they know that’s not really him. 

Stiles wants to scream, tell them that they may not like who he is now, but he can’t even look at who he was then! Snivelling, and crying in corners. Begging for mercy. Barely moving through life. At least this way he found joy in things, he was able to smile. But the more he sobered, the less he could focus. 

His knees bounced, and he chewed his cuticles. They probably thought they were getting through to him, but in reality he was counting the miles on the signs as they passed by. Counting down the miles to Aiden. 

When he starts sweating from withdrawal, and his eyes leak with need, they finally give up the onslaught of encouragement, and each hug him before leaving him with his dad.

Stiles scrubs his shirt across his face, and lights a cigarette. 

“I didn’t even know you’d picked up smoking.” His dad observed. 

All Stiles could muster was a half hearted shrug. He was seconds away from throwing himself off the bus because at least in a hospital he’d get morphine. 

Later his dad led him to bed, and tucked him in with a cold rag on his head, a bottle of water, and advil. Stiles rolls over hoping he’ll wake up and realize this was all just a bad fever dream from a bad batch of x. Instead he hears…

“I’ll be here in the morning when you wake up. I’ve taken some vacation time. I’m not leaving until we get you straight, kiddo.”

_ Fuck. _

* * *

Stiles doesn’t stop. He keeps the twins closer than ever, and never holds more than a day's worth, because he can’t bear to watch a week's worth go down the drain again. 

He makes a point not to treat anyone badly though, and he’s pretty sure he’s doing a good job, considering he gets questioned less and less each day. The real test will be if his dad deems him well enough to go back home. 

They want him to keep fighting, they want him to be strong, but they don’t realize he’s already lost. 

It’s not their fault Stiles fell in love with Derek. It’s not their fault Derek lost his memory. It’s not their fault he was too much of a coward to confront his fears after the accident, or even when Derek came back into their lives. Stiles could blame all these small circumstances that led him here, but he knows he’s the only one who can be blamed. He did this. 

The least Stiles can do is try to be a better friend to them the rest of the tour. Or at least eliminate as much stress from their shoulders as he can.

Turns out, Theo’s actually pretty good at his job when he’s not hanging all over Derek. Stiles is happy to admit his pleasure in the news of their break up. Now that Theo is focussed on his ward, Stiles finds himself getting into less and less trouble, and Theo doesn’t give him near as much shit anymore. Theo doesn’t even rat him out when he finds Stiles meeting up with the twins in a bar bathroom. He just keeps him in line, and helps him draw as little attention as possible until the tour ends. 

Then he can rot in his own filth until the label makes them record a new album. That is… if he isn’t too far gone by then.

* * *

During the show one night, Derek asks Stiles’ dad if he could talk with him outside for a minute. 

John follows without argument.

Derek turns with his hand out once the music’s muted behind closed doors. “Hi, we haven’t officially met, i’m -”

“Derek, I know.” John answers, shaking his hand anyway.

“Right.” Derek clears his throat. “You’ve been with us for a few days…”

John quirks a smile. “That, and Stiles and your mother aren’t very good at keeping secrets.”

“My mom?” Derek blinks.

“Yes, we live in the same area. We talk. But I’d already known about you, I figured you two out…” John blows a whistle. “I’d say maybe six years ago?”

“How?” Derek asks, voice small. 

“It was Christmas, and you all got a couple extra days with your families. Stiles was mooning over some guy, but he wouldn’t tell me who. Just said you were great.”

Derek feels his cheeks flush. 

“I remember him telling me about a pair of glasses, and the grumpy cat on the other end of his phone. He refused to show me, because it was  _ classified information _ ,” John makes air quotes. “I think he said something about lost luggage, so you had to wear an old pair of glasses?”

Derek clears his throat, with an idea of what pair of glasses he’d had on. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m not trying to convince you to fix whatever-” John waves a hand. “I just remember the day so vividly right now, I remember how…”

“Happy he was.” Derek finishes for him with a sombre tone.

“Yeah.” John sighs. “It only took a couple hours to get intel on who he was touring with, and narrow down the possible suspects. I had to make sure it wasn’t someone who might take advantage of my boy.”

Derek ducks his head in a grin, something inside him preening at John’s approval. He redirects the conversation before he gets lost in the moment. “He’ll be happy again. That’s actually why I asked to talk to you. I want to help.”

John scratches the back of his head, and squints at Derek. The motion is a mirror image of Stiles. “With all do respect, son.” John starts. “Unless you plan on living the rest of your life with him, there’s nothing you can do.”

“I can’t-” Derek’s eyes go wide.

John raises a hand with a grin. “I know, I know. I’m saying there’s nothing you can do. Stiles is on drugs because he’s filling the void you’ve left - no one is blaming you for that. If you give him any indication that he can have you back, and he cleans up his act, the minute you two break up he’ll be right back here. And you would inevitably feel responsible for his health. It’s not your job to keep my son sober. It’s his.”

Derek nods, understanding, but feeling guilty all the same.

“Stiles has to find something else to fill the void. Something that only he has control over, that no one can take away from him.” They step out of the way as some of the roadies start loading up Derek’s trailer with their equipment from their set earlier. “We all know Stiles isn’t going to find this on his own, and we can’t tell him what to do. We just need to figure out what it is, and guide him towards it.”

“That’s kind of what Isaac said.” Derek mumbles, scrubbing his face, wishing there was more he could do. 

“Smart man.” John smiles. “I’ll deny it if you ever tell anyone, but I always kind of routed for them.”

Something in Derek jolts. Something predatory, and possessive. If John was trying for a reaction, his face gives no indication. Derek takes a deep breath.

They both go back inside, and finish the show. Derek scrubs his brain trying to think of a way to help Stiles, since everyone else is content to stand by and watch. He catches Allison head outside for a phone call, and he follows her hoping maybe she feels the same as him.

When she’s off the phone she smiles at him. “Hey Derek, what’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Stiles.”

Her face falls immediately. “Look Derek, I can’t put any more space between you two.”

“No, no!” Derek holds out a hand. “That’s not - I’m sorry, no.”

She gives him a once over. 

“I want to help, how can I… everyone says there’s nothing I can do, but I want to help. I need to.”

Allison looks down at her phone, then holds it up with a pinched face for him to see. “If you want to help, you could put a muzzle on Jackson. Half of Stiles triggers are these goddamn media outlets. I fucking hate social media.”

Derek flinches, and reads Jackson’s latest tweet.  _ “Derek Who?”  _ with a picture attached of Stiles with Aiden’s finger in his mouth. To the fans, it looks like a private moment. Derek knows better.  

“Consider it done.” Derek says, eyes hot with his ignorance. He should have noticed, should have put an end to it long ago. Maybe he liked knowing he had a support group. Others to fight his battles when he was too weak to. All it did though was destroy Stiles, and what good did it really do Derek? What did he get out of this? He wanted to hurt Stiles, and he fucking did. Might have even killed him.

Derek decides that this is how he can make things better for Stiles. He’s going to turn his reputation around. He’s going to make his friends stop trashing him, and if they can, build him up, like they did in the beginning. And if they can’t, Derek will fucking make them.

Next, Derek will make a statement, every chance he gets. Tell everyone that he doesn’t hate Stiles. That Stiles is innocent. He was just a victim of human emotion. That Kate was a monster, and Stiles is the most genuine human being he’s ever met. They might never manage to be friends, but Derek isn’t going to let Stiles ruin his life because he loved him.

Derek isn’t mad at him anymore. The only anger he still has is for himself.

* * *

Stiles wakes up to the smell of sterile linens, and a constant pattern of beeps. He feels like he should know where he is, it seems all too familiar, but his head is too foggy. His whole body aches like if he moves a limb it might just snap in half. He’s stiff, he realizes he can’t even open his eyes, and when he goes to lick his lips and push closer to consciousness he finds something holding his tongue down, and he realizes something is very very wrong. 

He tries to lift his arms to reach up and figure out what’s in his mouth, and the more aware of the object he becomes, the more he notices. It’s as if something has been shoved down his throat and he’s choking. Oh god. He’s going to die.

He hears a bustle of activity around him, but he can’t focus on anything but the realization that he’s going to choke to death. How he got here, he has no idea.

Finally, there’s a pressure on his chest, and it feels like someone has reached down his throat and ripped his heart out. Then a warmth floods his body and he’s met with darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all so great. I love youuu!


	30. BARGAINING pt 2: Be my savior, and I'll be your downfall.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say more angst?

The next time Stiles wakes, he’s able to open his eyes, but immediately closes them to the sting of light. A weak but persistant cough fight its way out of him at just the thought of speaking a word. His throat feels like it’s been deepthroated by a toilet brush. 

“He’s awake!” 

Stiles fights the cough, still unable to move, and prays for mercy. The pain in his chest and limbs distract him from anything that may be happening around him. He wants to wake up and brush this off, just as much as he wishes he’d pass out again.

A hand grips his shoulder and rolls him to his side, and rubs his arm with a rough palm as his cough slowly subsides. Cotton fills his ears as he tries to focus on the noise around him, his eyes still resisting the light. 

“-eyes?” 

Stiles catches the end of a question, and tries to locate where it’s coming from, his eyes still not opening. 

“-eed you to open your eyes, Stiles.”

Stiles squints and the room is suddenly much darker with only spots of light in his peripheral. 

“Good, take your time. Just focus on my voice and nothing else.” The voice continues. 

Everything’s blurry, but Stiles makes out a white blob in front of him, spots and shapes dancing around the room.

“Don’t try to speak, okay?”

Stiles tries to nod, but he’s not sure if he does. The only thing he seems to be able to move is his eye lids. 

“My name is Dr. Alan Deaton. Can you focus on my finger?”

Stiles makes out a digit in front of his eyes, and tries to blink away the film in his eyes.

“That’s alright, take your time.” Dr. Deaton says gently. 

Stiles blinks some more, and finally feels like he can actually see a finger and not just the outline of one.

“Good, now there’s no rush, but I’d like for you to try and follow my finger. We’ll move slowly.”

Stiles feels his eyes lag, but the more he moves his eyes, the more awake he feels. He starts to look at the room around him, and places himself in a hospital. 

“It’s okay.” Dr. Deaton says, “You’re in good hands. I’m going to tell you where you are, and what’s happened, but I need to make sure you and I can communicate.”

Stiles focusses on the finger, then the face behind it. It’s a soft looking man, with dark eyes.

“Can you blink for me?”

Stiles tries. 

“Good. Can you blink twice for me?”

Stiles tries.

“Very good, Stiles.”

Stiles lets out a short breath, panic bleeding into his bones, but keeps his eyes locked on the gentle man in front of him. He’s in a hospital, that means he’s in good hands.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions. I’d like for you to blink once for yes, and twice for no. Once I know you can understand me, I will tell you everything you need to know. Does that sound okay to you?”

Stiles wishes the doctor would just get on with it, but he trusts the man before him. As the moment drags out, Stiles realizes he was asked a question and quickly blinks once in answer. 

“Great. Do you know where you are?”

Stiles blinks twice.

“You’re in South Memorial Hospital. Do you know how you got here?”

Stiles blinks twice, and feels a tear fall. A hand from someone Stiles didn’t know was there quickly wipes it away. 

“That’s alright, we are going to tell you everything you need to know. Do you know who you are?”

Stiles blinks once, strong. He’s Stiles Stilinski. He grew up in Beacon Hills, and is the lead vocalist for  _ Fallout Shelter _ .

“Do you know who this is?” 

A man steps up beside the doctor, and Stiles focuses. He knows the face immediately. He blinks once for a long moment, and feels his muscles relax and sink into the mattress. 

His dad is here.

Everything is going to be okay.

* * *

Derek’s head jerks from where it’s resting in his hands when his mom takes the chair next to him. He doesn’t even ask anymore, he just looks at his mom for news.

“He’s awake.”

Derek chokes out a loud strangled sob, tears instantly flooding his face, too fast to wipe away.

His mom smoothes his hair. “He’s only been awake a couple hours, and he’s resting now. John says since he woke up he hasn’t said anything. Alan thinks it’s because his throat is still sore from intubation, and he’s still groggy from all the medication.”

Derek nods. He heard yesterday that Stiles woke up for a moment, struggling to breathe, and choking around the tube. Derek can’t imagine how terrifying what was for him.

“They were able to get him to drink, and told him what happened. It’s hard to say what he remembers from that night, but he’s awake, his vitals are good, and we should know more in the next few days.”

Derek nods, head back in his hands. The same words running through his mind on a loop.  _ I should have been there. I should have done more. I should have trusted him. I should have been there. This is my fault. I did this to him. _

“You sure I can’t get you to go leave and get some rest? It’s been almost two weeks, and all you’ve done is sit in this chair, and go outside to smoke.”

Derek shakes his head. “I won’t leave him again.” Derek thinks of how Stiles already lost him twice, and he’s not willing to do it a third time. 

“Okay, sweetie.” She says, hand smoothing his hair away from his eyes. “Do you want to go sit with the others?” 

Derek shakes his head again. He can’t face them, he can’t look them in the eye knowing what he’s done. Stiles almost died, he doesn’t deserve their forgiveness.

“Are you going to be alright if I leave you here again? I want to go over there and catch John while he’s still down here talking to them. Will you be okay?”

Derek nods, standing to head outside for a smoke, his nerves completely shot.

“Laura, will you?”

Derek doesn’t have to look back to know she’s asking Laura to babysit him while she’s gone. He doesn’t fight it, he couldn’t if he tried, he can’t speak. If he does, he knows he’ll only be able to say the same thing he’s said since Ethan found Stiles.

_ I’m so fucking sorry. _

* * *

Stiles opens his eyes and immediately looks toward the large calendar at the foot of his bed where his dad someone has marked each day that’s passed. Stiles finds himself dozing a lot and can’t keep track of the day's himself, so this allows him to somewhat keep track. It’s been a week and a half since he woke up choking, and a week since he found out what happened to him.

He’s been in a medically induced coma for two weeks after he had tried to kill himself in a hotel bathroom. 

Stiles lifts his weak arm, and runs a thumb over the thick gauze covering one of his wrists.

He has no memory of it, but then again he has no memory of most things that happened over the last four months. Dr. Deaton remains optimistic that his memories will return soon, but Stiles knows his memory was hazy before the coma due to drugs, so he’s not counting on it. He can’t help but find the humor in the irony of losing memories himself.

Ethan found him when he’d ignored his texts about re-upping before they got back on the bus the next day. When Stiles didn’t answer, he did the math and knew Stiles would be out and feigning for another high. After banging on his door for a few minutes, and hearing his phone ring inside, he started to really panic. 

In his line of work, he learned to listen to his gut in these situations. 

He bolted down the hall to Scott’s room. He’d made a point to always know where at least one of Stiles’ bandmates were in case he needed back up. He knew he wasn’t a perfect person considering his line of work, but he still took some responsibility for those who indulged in his merchandise.

Luckily Scott had a key card and ran past Ethan before he could finish his sentence of “Something’s wrong, Stiles won’t open the door.”

They found Stiles unconscious in a tub of blood. 

As if this weren’t already too much for Stiles to wrap his mind around, there was one thing that stood out among the rest.

He’d been found with Heroin in his system, and the evidence in the bathroom with him. It was undeniable that he’d shot up, but never in his life had he wanted to try it. He was content to only use narcotics, it was his drug of choice, not to mention his fear of needles. He still remains one of the few musicians without a tattoo, even Lydia sported small script on the underside of her bicep.

He wishes he knew what led him to such an extreme drug. Ethan swore to his dad that he never sold him anything but pills. 

Stiles also never imagined he’d cut his wrists. He’d contemplated suicide many times, but never really looked at a blade since his first time testing one out on his skin. 

He only ever contemplated overdosing, or the one time he actually found himself at the edge of suicide - jumping from the top of a tall hotel, where he knew he’d die on impact and it would all be over in a matter of seconds. Quick and painless.

Stiles can’t imagine how he ended up shooting up and carving himself to the bone in an old run down motel, and he honestly hopes he never remembers.

* * *

Derek’s outside with Laura, neither of them talking, when Theo comes from the parking lot with his phone in his hand, typing a mile a minute. He looks refreshed, and energized. Derek doesn’t make a sound, his guilt returning full force. Every time he looked at Theo he remembered all the nasty things he did in front of Stiles just to hurt him, or rile him up. 

Theo lifts his head and spots Derek, and heads his way. “Hey, I just got the news.”

Derek clears his throat, wishing he could tell Theo to leave him alone, but he’s the only person he’s been able to talk to since Stiles’ suicide attempt. Theo’s the only person who doesn’t care for Stiles enough to judge Derek for his role in this. So, he’s the only person he’s really spoken to. “He woke up a couple hours ago, but he’s resting now.”

“I honestly didn’t think he’d make it.” Theo says, muting his phone and slipping it into his pocket as it continued to vibrate. “I mean, it should have killed him.”

Laura steps up beside Derek with her arms crossed. “But it didn’t.”

Theo cuts his eyes slowly toward Laura. 

Laura, stepped a little closer. “Don’t you have a job to do?” She glances at his buzzing pocket. “Lot of bad PR out there for someone who was hired for the sole purpose of avoiding such things.”

Theo held her with cold eyes, before nodding to Derek. “I’ll see you around I guess.”

After he disappears, Laura turns to Derek. “I really hate that guy.”

“You barely know him.” Derek answers, not really caring how she feels, Theo only a gnat on his periphery. 

“Handlers are hired to prevent this exact thing, and forgive me Derek, but he spent half his time trying to get in your pants. If anyone is to blame for what happened to Stiles, it could easily be him.”

* * *

Isaac’s the first of Stiles’ friends to seek Derek out in his small waiting room. “You know we’re just twenty feet down the hall.” Isaac says quietly, so as not to startle the ragged man before him. 

They’d all seen him in passing, and never knew if he even noticed them pass by. His head was always in his hands if he were awake, or he’d be asleep with his head against the wall behind him, with his arms crossed tightly around his bag. They didn’t pressure him to come wait with them, because he chose his solidarity, and they knew his family stayed with him so he wasn’t alone. 

Peter, Talia, Laura, and Cora took shifts staying with him. Whenever Isaac or any of the others would ask one of them how Derek was doing they always got the same answer.  _ He hasn’t said much, he’s just worried. We all are. _

Derek barely looks up at Isaac’s comment and just nods once.

“You know we don’t blame you, right?”

Derek doesn’t answer. 

Isaac knows Derek’s been stewing in self loathing. They knew Derek before, and they’ve come to know him now. He’s not and never has been a bad guy. Even while on tour, he always put his  _ friends  _ before himself, no matter how hard he tried to disguise it.

“I should have done more.” Derek croaks, voice rough from lack of use.

“You did everything you could.” Isaac reassures, relieved to hear Derek’s voice for the first time in over two weeks. 

Derek drags his face, clearly trying to rid himself of emotion. “I should have… I should have told him I forgave him. To his face.”

“Derek, Stiles knew you forgave him. He saw everything you said since you found out he’d started using. You made it very clear you forgave him.”

“But-” Derek coughs, trying to steady his voice. “I should have told  _ him. _ ” 

Isaac sighs, “He wouldn’t have listened. He’s an addict, Derek. He wouldn’t have heard you, same as he didn’t hear us. He lost himself, and couldn’t hear reason. He couldn’t see past the high. There’s nothing any of us could have done.”

Both of their heads pop up at movement in the hallway, hoping for news, but it’s just a janitor passing.

Isaac continues. “If any of us are to blame it’s the rest of us. This wasn’t the first time he’d relapsed. We saw all the signs, and we hoped things would get better. We thought if we could just get through the tour, we could regroup. We thought his dad would make him realize he was spiraling, but…”

“It’s not your fault.” Derek says.

“But it is.” Isaac whispers softly. “We should have gotten him help. We failed him.”

They both sit in silence.

Isaac clears his throat. “I actually came in here to ask you a favor.”

Derek looks up at him, fear in his eyes, but determination to do whatever he can written on his lips. Finally, something he can  _ do. _

“We’ve all been in to see him this week, and he’s still not saying much. He mostly fakes smiles until we leave to let him sleep.” Isaac pauses. “We know you haven’t seen him.”

Derek scrubs his overgrown beard. “How can I?”

“You can start by standing up and walking in there.” Isaac says. He doesn’t try and push Derek to go shower first, because that’s another battle of its own.

Derek dries his palms on the knees of his jeans. “He doesn’t want to see me.”

“Why?” Isaac asks, knowing Derek needs to hear himself say it out loud. 

“Because I wouldn’t listen to him for months, I treated him like shit, on purpose! I put him through hell, and he tried to kill-.” Derek bites the last word. “I mean… I’m not saying… it’s not all about me. I know that. But… I recognize that I am a major reason why, and I don’t know how to make up for that.” Derek finishes quietly, all air leaving his lungs.

Isaac nods and pats Derek’s shoulder, seeing for the first real time his old friend. “You can start by visiting him. You may not feel like you know Stiles, but you know enough to guess that he’s in there hating himself for this. He knows you better than everyone, so you better believe he knows you’re blaming yourself. Don’t let him sit in that, unless you think he deserves to suffer a little longer.”

“No!” Derek barks, startling even himself. “You’re right. I’ll go.”

* * *

After a short visit to the bathroom to try and clean the month of stale hospital air off his skin, Derek finds himself standing outside Stiles’ room unable to take the final steps through the door.

He can hear voices inside, and steps closer to try and listen closer. He hears Scott talking.

“Don’t worry about the tour dude, it’s been put on hold. The label put out a statement, and we’re booking all the same venues, so the tickets are still valid, just for another date. When you’re ready, we’re going to book the last leg of the tour again, and finish this thing out. But you have all the time in the world, okay buddy?”

Lydia speaks up next. “No one hates you either, the fans have been really supportive of your recovery.”

The conversation dies down after that, and Derek still hasn’t heard Stiles speak. 

“Is there anything we can get you?” Boyd asks.

Derek flinches, even his friends have visited him, and he’s just been stewing in a waiting room, but what was he waiting for? Time to turn back? Derek takes a deep breath and holds it as he steps forward and pushes the door open to slowly step inside. He stands with one foot out the door, ready to fall back and run away like a coward.

Everyone looks up one after another, and the room goes still. Stiles’ eyes lock onto him, and it’s worse than Derek expected. Stiles looks sallow and bruised. Bones jutting out everywhere, his eyes two big saucers surrounded by dark purple circles. 

They all hold their breath until finally Stiles speaks. 

“Hi.”

Derek’s heart breaks. He’s torn between running away, and rushing forward to squeeze Stiles and cover him with apologies.

John clears his throat. “We’ll give you two some time alone. Stiles if you need us, we’re right down that hall.”

Stiles nods, but his eyes don’t leave Derek’s. His gaze speaking volumes. 

Slowly everyone files out of the room, and John clasps his shoulder just as he leaves, and Derek uses what little strength he’s offered to step further into the room as the door shuts behind him. 

They remain silent another minute before Derek breaks it. “I’m sorry I didn’t come see you sooner.”

Stiles actually huffs a laugh through his nose, finally looking away. “I don’t blame you.” His voice is like sandpaper. “I’ve been there.”

Derek crosses the room to sit in the chair to the side of Stiles’ bed. He understands what Stiles means with his few words. He takes a minute to take in the room around him. 

Stiles shoves his hands under the blanket over his lap. “You don’t have to stay.”

“No, Stiles.” Derek says. 

Stiles’ eyes flash back to his, fear clouding them.

“I want to… I need…”

Stiles opens his mouth to probably reassure him, and give him another out.

“I’m sorry.”

“Really, Derek-”

“No, please. Let me try…” Derek hates that he can’t find the words with so many running through his head, but also trying to make sure he doesn’t say the wrong thing. “I’m sorry I wouldn’t listen to you. I’m sorry I tried to inflict as much pain as I felt. I’m sorry you felt you had to…”

“You didn’t.” Stiles says, and Derek finally stops trying to find words, he hopes Stiles can lead him where this conversation needs to go. “Honestly…” Stiles looks toward the door, his nose flaring. “I haven’t told anyone this, because I don’t think they’d believe me, but you haven’t in awhile so I’m not as scared to see mistrust from you. But I honestly don’t remember doing this.”

Derek’s heart drops. “They didn’t say you were experiencing any signs of amnesia.”

Stiles shakes his head. “No, not like-” The unspoken words hang in the air. “I mean, I don’t remember a lot from the last month of touring, you know, because of the drugs. I mean, I can’t remember wanting to kill myself, not really. I remember how I felt, and the things I did, I just can’t really put them in order?”

Derek sighs just a bit of relief that Stiles wasn’t about to experience what he had. 

“I remember wishing the tour would end so that you would be free of me, and-”

“I didn’t - Stiles, I wasn’t…” Derek tries.

Stiles rolls his head, a small smile peeking out at him. “You were. Just because you don’t feel that way now, doesn’t mean you didn’t want to put an entire continent between us.”

Derek hates the truth in the words, but he also wanted things to just magically go back to how they had been at the start of the tour. At the same time he wished he could forget Stiles, he wished he could keep him forever, or at least the Stiles he’d fallen in love with.

“I’m just saying… I don’t really know what I’m saying…” Stiles sighs. “I don’t know why I did it.”

A burst of emotion floods through Derek and his hand finds Stiles’ of its own free will. Stiles opens his palm under the blanket that separates them, and curls his fingers around Derek’s weakly.

“I want to fix this.” Derek starts again.

“Don’t. This isn’t some magic fix in a movie where the couple suddenly realizes they should be together. I don’t want you or anyone else thinking that’s why I did this, especially if  _ I _ don’t even know why.”

“Let me finish.” Derek says, a smile playing at his lips for a moment knowing Stiles could rant about cliches until he's blue in the face. “I want to be your friend. I want to listen to your side, and really listen this time. I want to understand how we got  _ here _ , and I want to be your friend.” Derek holds his breath. “That is… unless…”

“Okay.” Stiles says. “But can we talk later, I’m exhausted.”

“Of course.” Derek squeezes Stiles hand tighter, wishing he could feel his skin beneath his. 

Stiles closes his eyes, not even moving to get comfortable, and Derek remembers hearing that Stiles is experiencing a low level of atrophy, and probably doesn't have the strength to readjust. 

Derek waits for the first snore to sound before he stands.

A mumble slips from Stiles’ lips, and Derek isn’t sure if he’s awake or asleep. “Don’t leave.”

Derek steps closer, adjusts Stiles pillow, lowers the head of the bed into a reclined position, and tucks Stiles further in. Derek leans forward as Stiles’ breathing evens, and his heart rate settles. He places a soft kiss to Stiles’ forehead. “I won’t. Not again.”

* * *

Stiles feigns sleep, and his heart breaks even more. He knew Derek would blame himself, but he didn’t expect him to take it this hard. Stiles only recently started to put together the reality of what he’d put everyone through, and how they all might blame themselves. He doesn’t know how to apologize with all of the strings of thoughts running through his head. 

Pretty much everyone has apologized for one reason or another, even Jackson of all people. They all felt responsible for not doing something, and their apologies only served to make him feel like more of a dirt bag.

It’s been a tough couple weeks since he woke up choking on the tube that regulated his breathing, and tape on his eyes keeping them shut while he remained in his coma. Then to find out that he’d tried to kill himself, and damn near succeeded. Then to find out he had been in a medically induced coma due to complications.

But the worst part was that during all of this, he was… experiencing waking nightmares. He’d be looking at his father and a slimey, eight foot tall, closet monster would creep up behind his dad and take him away. 

Or he’d find a pound of narcotics under his pillow, then look around to find all of his friends blue in the face with mouths full of colorful tabs.

Or standing on stage in a full arena, blue and purple lights illuminating faces, and then being stoned to death with bottles of vodka, and severed hearts. 

Or someone pushing him off the stage and finding himself hung by the neck as thousands of people cheer.

Or sinking in a bathtub, his arm on fire, while something he can’t see holds him down. Blood clouding around him, unable to move, wishing for it to end.

Or in a morgue, looking over sheet covered bodies, and Stiles’ feet forcing him forward as a coroner uncovers Derek’s pale face… then Scott… Isaac… Lydia… his dad…

Honestly, Stiles prefers the closet monsters.

Apparently, according to Deaton, it’s common to experience hallucinations after waking from a coma. His trouble distinguishing nightmares from reality is nothing to be alarmed by.

It wasn’t until a couple days ago that Stiles found himself able to distinguish the two regularly. He’s continued to keep all thoughts to himself and only answer simple questions. He worries that anything he says can be taken as manipulation of some kind, so he just settles for silence. He wants to tell everyone he’s fine, not to worry about him, but that would be a lie, which is worse. 

So his choices are be honest, and risk everyone thinking he’s manipulating them.

Lying, and feeling terrible about it, because lying is what got him here.

Or just not saying anything, and letting them make up their own minds.

He’s a fucking mess. 

The only relief he’s truly felt, the only person he’s been able to talk to yet, is Derek - barely. Not because he loves him, or anything cliche, but because he’s gotten used to seeing disbelief in his eyes for the majority of the last year, so he feels it won’t hurt as bad. 

However, Derek is trying to make amends, and for once Stiles doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to worry that one day Derek might wake up and think that Stiles manipulated him. That’s why Stiles feigns sleep. He doesn’t know how to draw the line in the sand for Derek, yet. He doesn’t know how to tell him ‘ _ I don’t want you to be my friend out of guilt, or even try to make a relationship work with me. I’m afraid to get close to you at all. But I still love you too much to let you go, and i’m trying really hard not to be selfish. Even these things I’m saying can later be considered manipulation…’ _

So, Stiles remains silent, and hopes Derek stays around long enough to chase the nightmares away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from Downfall by Matchbox Twenty, which unfortunately never made the cut for the story. Please feel free to look it up if you want :) This chapter is a little shorter than all the others, but that's because I cut it off at the 4th stage of Grief: Depression.
> 
> Again, love you guys soooo mush.


	31. DEPRESSION: Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rehab

**Stage 4 of Grief: Depression.**

Two months from Stiles suicide attempt and he finally finds help. He’s checked himself into a high security rehab back in LA where most celebrities go for help. It’s hard to gain access for visits, and all employees have very strict contracts to protect any leaks about patients. 

Stiles has a grueling daily itinerary alternating between AA, NA, Physical Therapy, and an assortment of support groups for anxiety and depression, on top of his one on one therapy. With all of his meetings it leaves little room for outside visitors, and even less for one on one visitations. Stiles likes it this way, he prefers not to see his friends. It’s too hard. Too soon.

Stiles knows he’s getting the help he needs, and he’s got at least another couple weeks here before he’s cleared to leave. He’s regained most basic functions, and compared to some of the other patients in here, Stiles came in in far better condition. 

While Lydia visited earlier in the day Stiles had pointed out how he still felt disconnected from his body, and how he feels as though he’s floating in corners and watching from the outside. To which she responded with something so obvious, Stiles would have laughed if he had experienced the exchange in his own skin. 

“When’s the last time you picked up a guitar?”

So Stiles requests one be brought to him, and now sits in a monitored common area where others play board games, watch tv, and read. Staff continues to float closer to his side of the room ready to intervene if he or any other patients get any ideas about the possibilities the strings of his guitar hold. 

He’s been told that as soon as Dr. Morrell clears him as a non risk, he’ll be allowed to keep the guitar in his room and practice during down hours.

Stiles holds his guitar tenderly, both comforted and terrified of the familiar extension of himself. What if he can’t play anymore?

Stiles shakes out his hands, noting the eyes around the room trying to catch a glimpse of the fallen rockstar. With a sharp exhale, Stiles strums the first song he ever learned. It was in the early years after his mother died. 

He’d started acting out in school, and he now knows his antagonizing behavior had a target. He studied everyone’s buttons, and would push them just right to start a fight. He found release in pain, always has. 

It was later that the music teacher put him in front of a Piano, and it all came back to him quickly. His mother had taught him piano when he was younger. Then he started plucking at a guitar during early hours before school started, when he’d hang out in the music room to avoid trouble. 

This song was the first he’d ever played, and it satisfied something so deep within him, that from that moment he knew he’d never go a day without playing.

He’ll admit he fumbles more than he’d like, but after about ten minutes his fingers return to him. He plays the song through, and then starts again hoping for less error. He wishes he could sing along but he doesn’t trust himself to be able to handle both. He hasn’t sang since the incident either. He can only take one hit at a time right now.

A voice chimes in as the song begins anew, and Stiles flinches, missing a beat as he looks up to find Demi joining him with an upturned bucket that held crafts, that lay strewn across a table in front of them. 

Stiles smiles, or at least thinks he does, when their eyes meet and they repeat the beginning of the song with Demi tapping a rhythm on her makeshift drum. She begins singing again, and Stiles lets his eyes drift closed as she sings the thoughts they both share.

_ “I[ hurt myself today ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWxasQEzuBg)to see if I still feel. I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real.” _ Her voice whispers through the room, everyone silent and watching from the corner of their eyes.  _ “The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting. Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything.” _

Stiles looks over at her, the tension draining from her shoulders. He doesn’t know why she’s here, but they don’t ask each other to lay their specific demons bare as part of the intake agreement. Everything is confidential, and no one is required to share any personal information with anyone other than staff unless they want to. 

_ “What have I become, my sweetest friend?” _ She looks toward him, their eyes meeting and holding.  _ “Everyone I know goes away, in the end.” _ Her voice gains strength.  _ “And you could have it all, my empire of dirt. I will let you down. I will make you hurt.” _ She gives a small nod toward Stiles, using her wrist to wipe a moist corner of her eye.

Stiles takes a deep breath and decides there’s only one way to see if his voice will co-operate. His voice sounds rough, as though it just downed half a bottle of jack.  _ “I wear this crown of thorns, upon my liar's chair.” _ He clears his throat, and avoids the room of eyes. 

He thinks about the fact this was his first song he ever learned on the guitar, and wonders if he created a self fulfilling prophecy, because these words are too relevant. But then again, thousands probably feel that way, which is only further confirmed by the room of swaying heads, and tapping feet.

Demi sings again.  _ “Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair. Beneath the stains of time, the feelings disappear.” _

Stiles harmonizes with her,  _ “You are someone else. I am still right here.”  _ Stiles sees Derek in his memory. 

Others in the room hum along, with half mumbled words, the large rec room vibrating with emotion. _ “What have I become, my sweetest friend? Everyone I know goes away in the end. And you could have it all, my empire of dirt. I will let you down. I will make you hurt.” _

Everyone, including Stiles, fades out leaving only Demi singing loud enough to make up for the others.  _ “If I could start again a million miles away, I would keep myself...I would find a way.”  _

They stretch out the song, finding comfort in their shared pain, comforted by the mutual understanding they all share. No matter their specific demon, they all know what the other is going through on a basic level. Sure they have certified help flooding the halls, but there’s something about connecting with another bruised soul for only a moment, that outweighs hours of therapy.

Demi squeezes Stiles’ shoulder, and the staff tense in response. They relax when she sits back and closes her eyes while Stiles plays another song from his repertoire. No one sings this time, the room heavy with exhaustion, and they all watch as the sun goes down out the wall of windows.

* * *

Three weeks later Stiles sits with Dr. Morrell in their familiar room, ready for her to pick at his psyche. 

“You’re looking better, Stiles. How’s your physical therapy going?” She asks with a smile under soft eyes. 

Stiles knows she has the report behind her on her desk, but she insists he confirm the report. Patients can have a successful session, but still feel like failures due to any short coming, or the need for help alone. “I feel like myself again.” He pauses, “Physically, like myself.” He flexes his fingers, and jiggles his legs for clarification. 

“How much longer do you think you need, before you can discontinue your physical therapy?” She asks, her pen hovering over the small notepad in her lap. 

Stiles thinks, scratching his chin. “Honestly, I think I’m good, but you all know best so I’m waiting for someone to tell me i’m ready.”

She gives him a once over. “That’s not how we work here, you know that. You can be in peak physical shape, but if you’re blocked mentally…” She lets her words hang, and Stiles considers them.

“I think I’m ready, physically.”

She smiles. “That’s good, i’ll let them know to remove you from their schedules.”

“Wait,” Stiles asks, “What if they still think I need work?”

“Do you think you need more time with them?” She counters with a quirked eyebrow.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “No, but-”

She purses her lips, before leaning forward with a hand on his knee. “You’ve been ready for about a week now, we’ve just been waiting on you to realize it for yourself.”

Stiles mouth forms a silent ‘o’. 

“We usually shy away from affirmations, because we are merely here to urge you in the right direction. You are the only one who can decide when you reach your destination.”

Stiles knows that’s not the whole truth, otherwise half of them wouldn’t still be here. They’d have claimed they were good in the first week, just to return to their same bad habits on the outside. The unspoken truth below her statements, as demonstrated with his physical rehab, they are only allowed to decide they are ready after their doctors sign off first.

“I’d like to talk about Derek’s accident today.” It’s not a question.

Stiles has avoided, or skirted most of these questions up until now. “Okay.” He finally agrees.

“We’ve talked in length about the beginning of your relationship, and how your relationship developed when he came back. But I want to talk about how you coped after the accident, as that is when you found your addiction.”

Stiles nods, fingers twisting in his lap. 

“Tell me about the phone call.”

“I don’t understand…” Stiles starts, mind coming to an abrupt halt. 

“What don’t you understand?” 

“Why… why does that matter? That’s nothing compared to everything else… like his coma, memory loss, and my decision not to continue my relationship with him.”

She nods, as though this were the response she hoped for. “Yes, but I’m sure you’ve talked circles about all of that with your friends, but have you ever talked about that call?”

He knows it’s come up, but it’s never been the focus, and he doesn’t understand why it is now.

“I believe that was the catalyst that sent you down this path.”  She says.

Stiles furrows his brows. “No, what started this was I slept with my managers boyfriend, and kept it secret.”

“Maybe so, but if we blame that, then we have to also consider the factors that led to you two coming together in the first place.”

“Like how Kate treated him like shit.” Stiles mumbles.

“Then you have to consider what caused her to neglect her relationship, and so on and so forth.”

Stiles knows, he’s been down this rabbit hole.

“Everything in our lives are a result of choices and events that set off a chain reaction.”

“I know.” Stiles says, not sure he’s following her point. 

“So in your case, I think the significant event that sent you down this path is that phone call. It wasn’t a choice, or something that could have been altered in that moment. It was a direct result of all the choices made up until that point, and every result is a new beginning. That was the start for you.”

Stiles hates how simple it is. “Okay, so you’re saying there was nothing I could have done differently? No matter what, we’d always end up here? Aren’t you supposed to be more encouraging, and tell me it’s all about the choices we make? That I’m the master of my future?”

“It is all about choice. That’s why I want you to walk me through the choices you made after that call. If we can figure out where things started really going off track, then we can find the similarities with this year. Then you will truly know what your triggers are, and we can move forward with preventative measures for your future.”

“Oh.” Stiles swallows. “Okay.”

* * *

The session leaves Stiles emotionally exhausted, but more grounded than he’s been in a long time. 

Self hatred.

Self hatred is what triggers him. It’s so simple, yet so complicated. 

Basically, what triggers him is the moment he starts to blame himself for someone’s pain and suffering, and eventually punishes himself for it. He has to remind himself that he isn’t the cause for things that happens to others. He’s not a poison. He’s not destined to ruin everything he touches. Everyone makes their own choices, and are responsible for their own pain, not him. 

No matter how much Stiles argued, she always made sense of it in the most simple way. 

Stiles has to separate himself from his friends pain, and support them rather than apologize for it. As long as Stiles keeps himself from blaming himself, then he won’t start hating himself and look for relief.

Stiles is allowed his guitar in his room now, and reflects while his fingers tick away at the strings. He tries to think of the perfect song to work through his thoughts. Maybe something he can bookmark this moment with. A song that will remind him of his session with Morrell everytime he hears it. Something to bring him back.

_ “[It's been awhile ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8q182kWAhiM)since I could hold my head up high. And it's been awhile, since I first saw you.”  _

Stiles pictures Derek, his face when he joined them on tour in the beginning. How Stiles had always looked back at that moment and wished it never happened, wished he’d controlled himself.

_ “And it's been awhile since I could stand on my own two feet again. And it's been awhile since I could call you.” _

He spent years thinking he’d never be whole without Derek, but simultaneously wishing they'd never met, which he now understands is the reason he didn’t try to pursue their relationship after the accident. He blamed himself for what had happened to Derek, and gave Derek a fresh start without him.

_ “And everything I can't remember.” _

Stiles still can’t remember most of his drug haze, or the moment he decided the pain was too much to continue. 

_ “As fucked up as it all may seem. The consequences that I've rendered… I've stretched myself beyond my means. And it's been awhile since I can say that I wasn't addicted. And it's been awhile since I can say I love myself as well…” _

Morrell’s right. He hasn’t loved himself in a long time. He’s been trying to give penance for his crimes, that were neglected scars.

_ “And it's been awhile since I've gone and fucked things up just like I always do. And it's been awhile, but all that shit seems to disappear when I'm with you.” _

The only time Stiles hasn’t hated himself that he can remember, were the times when he was with Derek. When Derek was happy, and Stiles was able to put that smile on his face. 

Stiles understands now that he was only able to find happiness in  _ others  _ happiness. 

First his dad after his mom died. He only found himself able to smile again when he realized that his dad started smiling again after he’d started playing music, and stopped getting into trouble at school. 

With Lydia as kids when he’d spaz out and she’d laugh, he felt like he was a golden star in her world. 

With every relationship he’s ever been in. 

With all of his friends, he’s ever had.  

_ “And everything I can't remember. As fucked up as it all may seem. The consequences that I've rendered. I've gone and fucked things up again.” _

He fears he’ll never change. He doesn’t even know how to love himself, without being validated by others. But he knows just how bad he can get once the validations turn to criticism. He has to protect himself.

_ “Why must I feel this way? Just make this go away Just one more peaceful day!” _

Stiles looks back on Derek, and his smiling face, under the covers of some hotel duvet. Then immediately sees Derek’s stone face the morning the article had been released, and all the venom he’d spat at him for months.

_ “And it's been awhile since I could look at myself straight.” _

He tries to remember the last time he and Derek had had an actual conversation before his relapse.

_ “And it's been awhile since I said I'm sorry.” _

When did they stop trying? He can’t even remember anymore.

_ “And it's been awhile since I've seen the way the candles light your face. And it's been awhile, but I can still remember just the way you taste.” _

The need to have Derek back burns bright, but Stiles knows the best thing for both of them is distance. He has to learn to love himself, before he can give his love to someone else again. Not to mention the constant reminder that Derek isn’t the same person, these months of hatred can’t be erased.

_ “And everything I can't remember, as fucked up as it all may seem to be I know it's me. I cannot blame this on my father. He did the best he could for me.” _

He seers that into his brain. No one did this to him. He did this to himself. But he won’t again. Never again.

_ “And it's been awhile since I could hold my head up high. And it's been awhile since I said…” _

Stiles looks back at himself in the mirror, promising himself that he’ll fight for the reflection staring back at him. He’s going to take care of himself.

_ “I'm sorry.” _

* * *

“Tell me, Stiles, where do you go from here?” Morrell asks gently, notepad missing from her lap as they speak like old friends.

Stiles shrugs. “I take it one day at a time. I stay aware of my self image, and the second I start to blame myself for something, I take the steps we talked about, and backtrack to the trigger.”

“Do you think you can do that?”

Stiles thinks for a long moment. “Yes.”

“Then what’s stopping you from leaving?” Morrell addresses the elephant in the room. 

Stiles has been cleared to check out for over a week now. Stiles fakes a smile. “Because I want to spend more time with my favorite brown eyed beauty.” He winks.

She shakes her head. 

They sit awhile until Stiles finds the courage to admit the truth. “I’m not ready to face everyone, and break Derek’s heart again. I don’t want to have to tell him that I’m not good enough for him, and that I might not be in love with who he is anymore. Because he put me through a lot, and even if I deserved it, it wasn’t the man I loved.”

She tilts her head, already aware of why as it’s been the prime topic lately. 

The only thing that gave Stiles any relief the past few years has been wearing his love for Derek like a brand. It could excuse his behavior, and all of his choices. It was the only argument he had against Derek this year as explanation for why he lied. 

Somewhere along the way, Stiles’ love for Derek mutated. It turned from genuine to a safety blanket. Even when Derek came back, Stiles can’t determine how much of his love for Derek was for the new man before him, or residual love from before. Stiles had been in denial for so long, that he never realized that his love should have evolved. 

For Stiles, Derek coming back was like hitting resume on their story, and for Derek it had been a new story all together. It was a new story for Stiles too, he just never realized it.

So no, Stiles isn’t in love with Derek anymore. He’s in love with their origin story, and that’s all.

“I think…” Stiles starts. “He’s been visiting a lot, and… I think he thinks that… I haven’t told him other wise… I don’t know.”

“Take your time.” Morrell waits.

“I don’t want to tell him that I’m not in love with him, and that I’m not ready to get to know him again, when for the last year i’ve begged him to love me back. Now he may love me like I wanted, and I’m only going to break his heart again.” Stiles bites his tongue. “I’m not good enough for him, he deserves better. Not a head case who tried to....” Stiles sucks in a breath. “I tried to kill myself because he didn’t love me. I didn’t get what I wanted, so I tried to kill myself.”

Morrell nods.

“Derek deserves someone better than me.”

A knock sounds from the door, but Morrell motions for him to continue.

The red light on her desk starts blinking and Stiles knows their session is almost up.

“My head hurts.” Stiles grimaces, as thoughts swirl.

She laughs, “If it didn’t I’d be worried. You’re ready, Stiles.”

“I know.” Stiles answers with a sigh, looking out the window at the world it was time for him to join again. “I know.”

The door clicks open and it startles the two of them. Regulations state that no session be interrupted unless another situation is dire.

“Excuse me,” Morrell begins looking toward the door. “I’ll have to ask you to leave. This is a closed session.”

“This is your last session.” Chris Argent’s voice resonates like a shotgun blast through the room. “Stiles, get up. You’re coming with me.”

Stiles turns quickly, stunned to see him in this setting. Even more alarmed by his tone. “Is something wrong? My friends, are they-”

“Your friends are fine, Stiles.”

Stiles nods, already standing to meet the head of his label. Stiles notes the silence coming from the side of the room where Morrell sits.

Chris puts himself between Stiles and his therapist. “Dr. Marin Morrell, we haven’t officially met. My name’s Chris Argent.” Chris holds out his hand, and Morrell shakes it with a professional smile.

“What’s so important it couldn’t wait until after our session?”

“It’s come to my attention that you know my sister.” Chris states. “Kate Argent.”

Stiles eyes go wide. 

“And that matters to you, why?” Morrell counters.

Chris adjusts his suit jacket. “My sources show that you’ve been receiving weekly deposits from Kate since Stiles came into your care. Kate happens to be a person of interest in a multitude of charges involving my client, Mr. Stilinski. I cannot allow you to continue your sessions with him if for no other reason than a simple conflict of interest.”

Morrell tries to remain composed, but Stiles catches the forced swallow. He looks back to Chris, wondering what charges he could be talking about, last he knew everything was settled regarding their contract. 

Chris guides Stiles toward the door. “My assistant will also be taking all files you have on my client.”

She begins arguing just as another man in all black walks in, and flashes a badge. “Officer Lance O’riley.”

“What the fuck?” Stiles barks, and Chris shuts the door behind him. 

* * *

Stiles rides silently in the passenger's seat of Chris’ SUV, counting the trees as they pass by, and fears the last three months of therapy did more harm than good. Even before his conversation with Chris, he already knew something bad had happened. Anytime Kate’s name is mentioned, it’s followed by bad news.

Chris explained that while the label continued to investigate Kate’s relations with her clients, they found that Dr. Morrell had been the lead therapist for any of her clients that stayed at the rehab center. They found that Stiles had also been assigned to her, and dug a little deeper. Kate and Morrell had been close friends in college, and still spent time together. 

There’s not proof that Morrell had done anything more than her job, but the connection was too risky to allow Stiles to continue to be treated by her. Stiles bitterly that if it were such a concern, they should have caught it a month ago, not just as he was about to check himself out.

Unspoken words ring loud in Stiles’ ears. Everyone’s heard about the conspiracies that when Celebrities have a mental break down, they visit certain medical facilities, and come out a new person. 

Brainwashed. 

Which leads Stiles to question if someone can  _ wonder  _ if they’ve been brainwashed if they have  _ in fact _ been brainwashed. Wouldn’t that be a fail safe? Brainwash them to never humor the idea? Or is he thinking exactly what he should in this situation because he’s been brainwashed to both fear and deny the possibility? 

Three more trees pass, and Stiles taps them out on the panel of the door. 

Chris turns down the radio. “You don’t have to talk to anyone about your time with Morrell, that’s part of you patient agreement when you signed in to the facility. However, I do strongly encourage you see another therapist for at least a month.”

Stiles doesn’t look back at him.

“Even if you don’t necessarily talk with them about Morrell, they will be able to note any possible error with her treatment.”

Stiles closes his eyes. He’d finally felt like he had a handle on his mental stability, and now he might come to find that he’s even more fucked up than when he went in. He left thinking another relapse could never happen, because he knows his triggers, and he had preventative measures lined up and ready incase he found himself triggered. Now, none of that might work, and Stiles might not fail the next time he tries to take his own life. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Chris adds quietly.

Stiles lets out a slow breath through his nose, and blinks a glance at Chris. As much as he hates the label, it was always centered around Kate, and Chris hasn’t personally ever done anything to hurt him or his friends. “I know.” Stiles concedes. “You set me up with a new doctor, and I’ll go in for the sessions.” 

“We have a deal.” Chris smiles, and reaches over to squeeze Stiles’ shoulder. 

Stiles locks in place at the contact, then finds himself slightly pressing into the hand. He realizes he hasn’t been touched by anyone aside from the staff at the clinic in three months. Even when his friends would visit, he would remain on his side of the visitors table, and keep his hands under the table top, ashamed of his new scars.

Suddenly, all he wants is human contact. But that goes against his plans. He’s got to distance himself from his friends until he can learn to love himself, and take care of himself. If he gets close, he can misinterpret his happiness for theirs, and inevitably relapse down the line when he lets them down.

Then Stiles’ breath hitches. What if that’s what Kate wanted? What if she paid Morrell to convince him to distance himself from his friends? Stiles shakes the thought away. It makes sense, it’s the right thing for him to do… right?

* * *

Stiles stands in his kitchen and stumbles through the process of brewing a pot of coffee having not done so in months. It’s nice to be home, in his own condo, surrounded by his things. He hadn’t realized how much he missed home. 

A crash sounds from a back room and Stiles sighs, leaning over on the kitchen island to rest against his elbows and glare at Isaac.

Isaac stands up, with a finger toward Stiles. “Don’t say it.” 

Stiles smiles and sticks his finger in the sugar to lick it off, and watches Isaac wander down the hall calling for his cat Bangle to see what he’s gotten into now.

When Stiles neared his house his anxiety spiked, he braced himself for a house full of people celebrating his freedom, but thankfully he only came home to Isaac. Stiles wasn’t surprised, nor disappointed by this. 

Isaac had taken on the role of Band Mom, long ago, and on his days off he assumed the role of camp counselor in the very least. He was always within arms reach of anyone who might need a hug, and he probably has spent more time sleeping in other beds than his own. He’s a cuddler, specifically a big spoon to all his little ducks’ small spoons. 

Today, mama Isaac brought reinforcements with his tabby, Bangle. Which is odd because Stiles has never been a cat person. It’s not that he actively dislikes them, he just never gets close enough for one of their claws to meet his skin. Stiles can’t even have blood drawn without feeling faint at the sight of the needle, let alone actively seek out a pet with twenty little needles connected to their feet. No thank you. But he does indulge in all the cute kitty videos swarming the internet, because anyone who doesn’t is heartless. 

Isaac comes back with Bangle in his arms, and whispering admonishments against his head. 

Bangle isn’t like most cats you see online. He doesn’t have any unique markings, or identifying features. He’s just your average tabby with a mixed coat, green eyes, and short sleek fur. 

“What’d he knock over this time?” Stiles asks, finally pouring a mug of coffee.

Isaac scratches Bangle behind the ear and Bangle appreciates it greatly, by the sound of his loud purr as Isaac makes his way toward the kitchen Island to stand with Stiles. “A stack of CD’s on your desk in your room. I stacked them back up for you, and shut your door.”

Stiles looks down at the cat, and reaches out to scratch his head. “You’re a menace, you know that?” The car turns it’s head, and makes slow movements as it gets in position to leap over Isaac’s shoulder at first chance.

“He’s just a kid.” Isaac defends, “Isn’t that right, Bang?”

Stiles snickers, pulling down a mug for Isaac as well. “Young and a menace.”

Bangle finally sees his opportunity, flies off Isaac’s shoulder and skitters down the hall again. Isaac rubs his shoulder where those tiny needles surely left their mark, and throws his head back to call to his cat. “Love you too, Bang.” He looks back at Stiles. “He’s being weird today. He usually sticks by me when I’m around, and I have to beg him to leave me alone.”

“It’s not you.” Stiles reassures, pushing Isaac’s creamed coffee toward him. “He won’t stay in the same room as me.”

“That’s not true.” Isaac says, his eyes darting down the hall considering. 

Stiles smirks. “Wanna bet?” 

Isaac considers, then shrugs. 

Stiles sets his coffee back down and heads down the hall. He locates Bangle in the guest room, spread eagle as he cleans himself. He freezes when he notices Stiles enter. Stiles walks in and takes the chair across the room, and pulls out his phone to look as disinterested in the cat as possible.

Bangle sits up right, looks around a moment, before hopping down and leaving the room. 

Stiles smiles, gives it a minute, then walks out to find Bangle sitting on his bathroom counter. Stiles walks in and adjusts the towel rack, and when he turns around the cat’s gone. Next he walks down the hall and steps into his bedroom. He waits until he sees the light dance at the foot of his door and then walks out to stand at the end of the hall.

Bangle stops mid hall, looking at the few open doors then up at Stiles. He turns and walks back toward the living room to sit with Isaac. 

Stiles remains at the end of the hall with his arms crossed, smiling at Isaac who shakes his head in shame as Bangle curls up next to him on the couch. “See, he hates me.”

As expected, Bangle jumps down from the couch and leaves back down the hall when Stiles returns.

Stiles settles on the couch opposite Isaac, and pulls a blanket over his legs, and curls up with his coffee to watch the tail end of a movie Isaac had been watching. 

He finally turns his phone back on, and braces himself for the mess he left behind four months ago. He knows he could hand the phone to Isaac and have him clear it out for him, but he knows he needs to face the destruction he left behind. 

He starts with his email and deletes all the junk, then reads the subjects of all emails from the label. He doesn’t have the capacity to read them so he shoots an email to Chris and Allison letting them know that he’s deleting all emails from the label, and if there’s something he needs to know from the time he’s missed, they can email them again, or if they’d prefer they could set up a meeting and catch up on all business. 

After that he finds himself with a manageable set of emails. He sees Adore’s name and clicks it on impulse. He realizes he hadn’t tried to contact her once since she left.

> _ Hey Crackhead, (too soon?) (no, I can say that because my ass ended up in rehab too. So, party!) _
> 
> _ I know it’ll be awhile before you see this, but I wanted to write you anyway. I want you to know I don’t blame you. I know your stupid ass and you will find a way to take the blame for everything, even the clouds in the mf sky. _

Stiles laughs out loud, and Isaac glances at him out of the corner of his eye.

> _ Nah man, this was all me. Even if I hadn’t come to visit, I would have found another connect. I focused all my attention on you and the tour, that I ignored my own shit I had going on, and the drugs helped me ignore it. The day before I came to see you, my own dick head broke up with me. He said I partied too much… So I partied and tried to forget about him.  _
> 
> _ I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to think about it. I’ve been out of rehab for about a week now, and I feel great. I’ve been working on a new album, I think all that rock and roll is still clouding my brain. I’m finally going to put out a rock album like I always wanted. I’m kind of going for a classic rock feel though, so don’t be offended when I don’t sound like you, bitch. I’m going for like a Manson and Cobain feel, get me?  _
> 
> _ I hope you’re doing better. You scared the fuck out of me, ho. We should hang next time our paths cross. Love you, bitch! _

Stiles takes a deep breath, and backs out of the email. She might not blame him, but he still does. He’s glad she’s doing better though, she deserves it.

Stiles skims the emails from a few others, then closes the app. He scans all of his missed calls just to clear the notification. He clears his twitter and other social media notifications, not even opening those wounds. Then he finally views his unread texts.

He’s deeply ashamed of what he finds. Reading through the last month before rehab, he notices how his friends frequently tried to reach out to him, and he would leave them read, or respond with one jab or another. He was unreachable. The only person he had a direct back and forth with was Aiden when he was arranging a new exchange. The final messages from both the twins were short and concise. First they apologized for their role, and then they wished him well and asked he not contact them again. They would no longer offer their services.

It’s for the best. 

Scott told Stiles to hit him up when he wanted to hang, and sent him a picture of him, Allison, and Buzz sitting on the couch smiling. He told him that the family missed him, Buzz had apparently been beside himself while he waited for his best friend to visit.

Danny apologized for getting distracted by Jackson, and not seeing the signs. Stiles immediately tells Danny it’s not his fault. It was all his own, and that he’s sorry for putting him in a position to blame himself to begin with. Danny text back instantly reassuring Stiles that it was okay, and that he and Jackson have talked about it, and he’ll never get that distracted again.

Stiles blinks. “Jackson?”

Isaac hums toward him, hearing the question in his tone.

“Jackson and Danny are friends?” 

Isaac scratches his wrist where they hang between his knees. “They’re kind of dating, actually.”

Stiles jaw hits the floor. “What?” He blinks down at his phone and re reads Danny’s message, and it makes better sense. “Wow. Why? Why Jackson?”

Isaac levels him with a look. “You missed a lot.”

Stiles looks at his phone.

“Jackson and Danny are good for each other. You should be happy for him.” Isaac says browsing through the tv guide for something new to watch.

Stiles tries to think back to Jackson and Danny’s interaction, and only vaguely remembers Danny spending more time with Jackson, but he thought that was just a crush that Jackson would never reciprocate. “I thought Jackson was after Lydia.” 

Isaac laughs. “Yeah, well he finally gave up on that dream after Lydia and Jordan went public.”

“Jordan?” Stiles barks.

Isaac raises an eyebrow. “My brother, Jordan Parrish?”

“Wow.” It’s all Stiles can say. He worries what else he may have missed. 

Stiles skims through the rest of his messages, nothing as startling as what he’d just learned, so he keeps moving through them and sends gratitude to those who wished him well. Then as if by instinct, Stiles saved Derek for last. 

He knew that Derek wasn’t mad at him anymore, because he would visit him pretty often. Stiles doesn’t know where to go from here. He’d discussed with Morrell that he needed to tell Derek that he wasn’t good enough for him, and that Derek deserves better. But how much of that was Kate’s manipulation? Did Kate have anything to do with any of it?

Stiles skims Derek’s messages and comes to the last message sent just an hour ago.

**Derek: I hope you’re settling in alright. If I can do anything, let me know.**

Stiles knows he should close the message, but he finds himself typing his own message.

**Stiles: It’s kind of weird being back. I haven’t been here in a year, so it kind of feels like another Hotel… I feel like I have to keep everything clean, lol.**

Derek texts back immediately and Stiles’ stomach fills with butterflies.

**Derek: That’s probably best, you don’t have housekeeping to come in and clean up after you.**

**Derek: Or maybe you do?**

Stiles laughs, and Isaac glances over.

**Stiles: I don’t have a housekeeper, lol.**

**Derek: So then you better keep it clean, young man.**

Stiles stands up and tells Isaac he’s kind of tired, and going to go to bed early. He responds as he walks down the hall.

**Stiles: Hey! I’m not that bad. I’ll have you know I’ve been cleaning up after myself my whole life.**

**Derek: When you’re not on tour, maybe. I spent those first 6 months cleaning that damn bus after all you heathens.**

Stiles starts and deletes at least four responses about how Derek loved them, he stuck around, didn’t he? And so on. But all of those were too loaded, and Stiles was enjoying the easy back and forth they were having. 

**Stiles: Drama queen.**

**Stiles: Look, if things get too out of control over here, I’ll just invite you over and you won’t be able to help yourself. Lmao**

Stiles wonders if he’s getting too comfortable, but Derek’s reply comes quickly.

**Derek: That all i’m good for? Makes me feel real special.**

**Stiles: As it should. You’re super special.**

Stiles holds back the ‘I love you’ at the tip of his tongue, he’s supposed to put distance, and this is the opposite.

**Derek: I see how it is. I’ll be sure to add this skill to my job apps, and I’ll list you as a reference.**

Stiles shoots him a thumb emoji, then curls up in bed, sheets foreign against his skin. It’s another ten minutes of Stiles lost in his thoughts before Derek texts him again. 

**Derek: On second thought… go crazy. Make a mess.**

Stiles squints at his phone trying to decide if he should read this the way he is. He decides to just go with it.

**Stiles: Why?**

**Derek: So you’ll invite me over.**

**Stiles: hahahaha**

**Stiles: I’ll get on that tomorrow. I’m already in my bed.**

**Derek: I’ll let you sleep then. Happy you’re back. Good night.**

Stiles feels his face heating up, memories from years ago flooding his mind. Of late nights spent texting Derek from separate rooms in a hotel. Stiles squeezes himself tight, feeling as though he might vibrate out of his skin, and sends Derek a simple  **Me too. G’night.**

* * *

Stiles wakes the next morning with plans for a few new songs, but in dire need of caffeine so he heads to the kitchen and finds Isaac standing on his coffee table. “What are you doing?”

Isaac looks up with pure fear in his eyes. 

Stiles freezes in the hallway. “Did your cat get rabies?”

Isaac frowns. “What? No.”

Stiles makes a wide gesture.

“There was a spider here just a second ago.”

Stiles looks down at the floor. “Where’d it go?”

Isaac’s eyes are bright, and once again full of fear. “...I’m not sure…”

“Burn it.” Stiles says walking straight through the living room.

“Burn what?” Isaac asks, still standing on the coffee table.

Stiles doesn’t look back. “The condo. Burn the whole thing down.”

Isaac starts laughing, and then he lets out a little shriek. 

Stiles turns just in time to see Bangle fly from behind a chair and zero in on something under the edge of the couch. Bangle slides along the edge, clearly following the spider. Then reaches under and swipes, before biting his prey. 

“Did you get it?” Isaac asks, craning his neck to try and see the floor below Bangle’s face.

Bangle sniffs around, licks his lips, and then hops up on the couch to clean his foot. 

Stiles nods his approval. “Alright, Bangle, you can stay. Mi casa es su casa.”

Isaac laughs and they both head to the kitchen for breakfast. After a moment of silence, Isaac gives Stiles a knowing grin. “You and Derek talking again?”

Stiles doesn’t look up from his mug, but his grin is answer enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think... are these two dummy at a place to start a healthy relationship? Romantic or not? And will they be smart enough to know the difference? 
> 
> .... only I know. Muahaha
> 
> luh you!


	32. ACCEPTANCE: There's no you and me, this impossible year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola!

Derek’s re-read the last text from Stiles at least ten times since he woke up, and wonders if the two of them could ever really move past everything that happened, he looks for clues between the letters. 

Derek’s had a lot of time to think things through. He’s talked to everyone and really listened to what they had to say, and took them at face value as far as his forgotten memories go. He’d spent so long lost in anger, and never let anyone close enough to hear. All he could hear through the steam in his ears were apologies followed by excuses. 

When he was younger his father taught him that an apology was void if followed by excuses.  _ You’re either sorry, or you’re not. Which is it, son?  _

At the young age of eight, he’d argue.  _ But I want to tell you why I did it! I know it was wrong, but-  _

His dad never let him get too far in his arguments.  _ When you’re sorry, it means you did something wrong, yes?  _ Hiss father would ask, until Derek dropped his head with a nod.  _ Then it’s not up to you. It’s up to the person you wronged to ask you why. So we only explain if the other person cares to know.  _

Derek held onto that for some reason. It made sense. He didn’t make excuses, he’d only explain himself when asked, and he expected the same from others. At least when the crime outweighed the theatrics of excuses. 

So, Derek never listened to anything that came after the apologies. He heard the gist, and moved on.

Since he’s apologized for his childish behavior with Scott, Lydia, and Isaac, they’ve all opened back up to him. When he started talking to Stiles in the hospital, he listened, but something had definitely changed. Stiles was more withdrawn.

Then when Derek would visit him in rehab, one of the first things he did was tell Stiles that he forgave him. He’d had plenty time to think, and even if he didn’t condone what Stiles did, he understood. He believes everything Stiles did came from a place of love. He just needed time to see that. He tells Stiles as much, but leaves out how he hates that Stiles almost dying was the catalyst he needed to open his goddamn eyes, but they both already know that.

Stiles doesn’t bring it up. He hasn’t even said anything that could be misconstrued as blame. In fact, Stiles hasn’t said much. He just answers Derek’s questions about their past, and generic things about how he’d been in rehab. 

Now, Derek worries too much space has been put between them, and he’s afraid they won’t get the same intimacy back. However, Derek understands that it’s not up to him right now. 

Everyone has strongly urged him to keep his distance, at least until the end of the tour when they resume. They’re afraid that Derek will get in over his head, and break up with Stiles, and then send him on another path of destruction. Derek doesn’t want to be the reason for that again. 

But he really wants Stiles in his life. These few months without him have only served to prove that. Derek thinks about him almost every second of every day. It would be one thing if his thoughts only consisted of memories from the first leg of the tour, when he fell in love with Stiles and was sure he’d marry him. Or even getting lost in the dreams he has almost every night. 

No, what plagues him are the memories of all the awful things he said to Stiles. All the disgusting things he did with Theo in front of Stiles just to hurt him. The resulting decline in Stiles’ health as he started to abuse his addictions, and how Derek didn’t care to notice.

You know what they say about hindsight.

Derek joins his friends in the living room of their new rental house in LA, and Boyd taps them in for a run through of Derek’s new song. Suddenly, Derek can’t stop writing songs, and his friends are nothing if not supportive.

Derek’s knee keeps the tempo, his body rocking with it.  _ “[There's no sunshine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d20ntGnYnm4), this impossible year. Only black days and sky grey, and clouds full of fear. And storms full of sorrow that won't disappear. Just typhoons and monsoons, this impossible year.” _

They all know it’s about Stiles’, they know  _ all  _ of the lyrics he’s thrown around have been about Stiles, but they don’t comment.

_ “There's no good times, this impossible year. Just a beachfront of bad blood, and a coast that's unclear.” _ Derek takes a deep breath, wishing he knew what the future held for them.  _ “All the guests at the party, they're so insincere. They just intrude and exclude, this impossible year.” _

Derek closes his eyes, trying to remember the last time he actually saw Stiles, it had been at least two weeks since the last time he visited the rehab center. Stiles told him he was too busy with his therapy that he’d asked everyone not to come as often. Derek took the hint, and let him heal. 

_ “There's no you and me, this impossible year. Only heartache and heartbreak, and gin made of tears. The bitter pill I swallow, the scars souvenir. That tattoo, your last bruise, this impossible year.” _

Derek imagines Stiles listening to this song, and suddenly it’s not enough. Derek needs Stiles closer. He wants to slip into his skin, and never leave. A soft plea, of  _ please don’t leave  _ branded over his heart _. _

_ “There's never air to breathe, there's never in-betweens. These nightmares always hang on past the dream!”  _

Derek understands now that Kate is the reason for what happened, and he punished Stiles for it. Now, as Stiles recovers and tries to feel like himself again, Derek is trying to balance the line of friends and declaring his love while begging forgiveness for his behavior.

They could use a break. Derek wishes they could scrub the slate and pictures them in a small cabin far from society, sitting in the living room, reading and playing a guitar. He imagines a fire burning, and a couple large dogs sleeping on the rug. 

But that’s not something they’ll ever have.

_ “There's no sunshine. There's no you and me. There's no good times. This impossible year.” _

* * *

It’s been a couple weeks since Stiles checked out of rehab, and Derek’s sitting at home with his friends. Luckily, no one has pointed out how he’s constantly checking his phone for updates on Stiles.

Stiles still hasn’t invited him over, and Derek’s not pushing. He knows Stiles doesn’t owe him anything. Stiles may not have stuck around after the accident, but he’s proven time and time again that he wanted Derek, and now that Derek’s finally caught up, it’s Stiles that needs time to catch his breath. 

Derek’s okay with that. 

He’s also keeping in mind what everyone has been saying about him jumping in too soon. If they don’t work out, Derek couldn’t live with himself if Stiles tried to kill himself again. Then he has to think about how that’s not healthy to begin with, and you shouldn’t date someone just because their life depends on it, but Derek really believes he…

Derek’s a mess to say the least.

So now, Derek’s checking his phone again and scanning through Scott and Lydia’s social media because that’s the best way for him to get updates. Scott just snapped a picture of Stiles at a cafe with a note saying how good his boy’s doing. 

Stiles looks good. The color’s returned to his face, his cheeks are full, and his lips aren’t flaking and covered in thick scabs anymore. It looks like he’s showered, because Derek can’t remember the last time he saw Stiles’s hair this fluffy and light. He could have sworn Stiles’ hair was dark brown, almost black. In the photo Stiles is wearing loose jeans, a band tee, and a leather jacket. 

The leather jacket seems so familiar, which Derek shouldn’t be bothered by because he’s probably seen Stiles wear it a thousand times. But he feels like… he doesn’t know. He puts his phone away with a frustrated huff and tries not to think about it.

Later that day when Derek’s swiping through his saved photos in his phone, looking for a screenshot of Stiles’ and Scott’s dog, he comes across the set of fan photos he’d saved early in the tour. It was the day he’d learned about Sterek, and had done some googling while Erica forced him to get a manicure with her. 

He thinks back on that day. How Erica cornered him and told Derek that she didn’t trust Stiles. She said he wasn’t a bad guy, but he had secrets and they needed to be careful. Derek makes a mental note to listen to her warning next time. 

Then he thinks about how that was the day his mom had her accident and he rushed to the hospital. He remembers coming in to Stiles already there, and there was something his mom said…

Derek pinches his nose, trying to remember. He remembers it was weird… and he’d made a mental note to think about it later, but now it’s half a year later and he’s forgotten. He blinks it away and looks back at his phone to see a screenshot of an article from six years ago. It was the one Derek was going to look at closer when he had time, but never did.

He opens his browser and looks through his bookmarks, which now consist mostly of Stiles’ youtube covers, and links to songs he’s written for other artists. He finds the link from the screenshot and starts reading. 

It’s an article about Stiles putting on the best shows of career, and speculation as to what the reason may be. Then at the bottom, Derek looks at the photo that supports their speculation of a new love interest, or just a very attentive body guard.

It’s a professional photo by someone who had media access to the show. The photographer is all the way to the right of the stage, and has a wide angle of the stage. Right at the foot of the left corner of the stage, standing with security is a man in a leather jacket. The same leather jacket, from what Derek can tell, as the one Stiles has worn throughout tour. However, the head sticking out of it isn’t Stiles’. 

Derek knows his own profile. 

* * *

That night Derek finds himself in bed with one of the worst migraines of the year, and he hasn’t had a drink in days, he wonders if he’s suffering withdrawal or maybe just a few symptoms. 

He tosses and turns for about an hour, battling his inner monologue of ‘just ask him, he won’t lie to you anymore. Just ask him. What if it is your jacket and he’s kept it this whole time, what would that mean?’

Derek finally grabs his phone, and immediately dims his screen for the sake of his eyeballs that are being burned right out of their sockets, and texts Stiles.

**Derek: Was that my jacket?**

Derek panics, unable to take it back.

**Derek: or did I ever wear it? What I’m trying to ask is if you had it before my accident.**

Derek already knows there’s a very real chance it’s the same jacket from that photo, but he doesn’t want Stiles to think he’s stalking him online. Which shit. The only reason he’d know what jacket he was wearing today is if he were in fact stalking him online.

**Derek: I saw it on Scott’s snapchat story, and I feel like I’ve seen it before.**

It feels like an eternity before Stiles finally responds. 

**Stiles: You probably recognize it from this year? I wear it all the time.**

Derek sighs. He’s sure it’s the same jacket from the photo taken six years ago, and he’s also sure Stiles won’t lie to him again. They promised each other.

A few minutes later another text comes through.

**Stiles: But it was yours.**

Derek blinks at the screen, so he kept it… what does this mean?

It’s obvious, and it’s no secret, but Derek doesn’t want to read too much into it for some reason. He feels like there’s more to the story. Derek can guess why Stiles kept it all these years, but to wear it today… does that mean Stiles is thinking about him again?

**Derek: Was is really yours and I just wore it a lot or something?**

Stiles comes back quickly.

**Stiles: No, lol. It was yours. Do you want it back or something? In sudden need of a good leather jacket? Lol**

Derek can’t find a proper reply. So many things fly through his mind. it’s the first thing in the last few months that indicate that Stiles might still love him. Derek knows he’s done awful things this year, and he doesn’t deserve Stiles’, but… Stiles wore  _ his  _ jacket today.

**Stiles: I’d actually lost one I’d borrowed from you, so I replaced it with a better one.**

Derek reads it over and over. Stiles hesitation is obvious in his short answers and delayed responses. 

**Stiles: Why?**

**Stiles: did you remember it?**

**Stiles: or something?**

Derek wishes he did. He really does, and he says as much.

**Derek: I wish I did. No, I came across an old picture and I was wearing it at one of your shows.**

A few minutes pass. 

**Stiles: Oh, can I see it?**

Derek sends it, and another few minutes pass.

**Stiles: Yeah, that was your spot.**

**Derek: My spot?**

**Stiles: Yeah, if you weren’t back stage waiting for us, you were always with security at the left corner of the stage.**

**Derek: Weird. Lol**

**Stiles: Yep.**

**Stiles: Imagine my surprise when you showed up 5 years later standing in the same damn spot.**

Derek thinks back on that night. How the band had been erased from the roster Kate had provided him to choose from. Like she’d found it funny to include Stiles just so Derek could reject him, but chickened out.

Derek remembers the night though, it was the night his life changed forever. He remembers standing in the audience and something pulling him closer and closer. How he was enamored by Stiles before he even knew his name. How he felt Stiles’ pain during  _ The Mighty Fall _ . 

He remembers running into Stiles outside the venue, then how Stiles reacted when he saw him for the first time. How Stiles looked when he asked him to stick around. 

Suddenly so much made sense. Freaking hindsight, man.

**Stiles: Sorry. That was inappropriate. Dialing it back.**

Derek typed faster than he could think.

**Derek: no I want to know. Things are finally starting to make sense.**

**Stiles: ok**

**Stiles: I’m actually kind of tired…**

**Stiles: We good?**

**Derek: Of course. Good night, Stiles.**

That night Derek dreams of the day Stiles gave him the jacket.

He wakes up with a skull splitting headache, and finally believes that all of his dreams are more than what they appear.

* * *

It’s a fitful night’s sleep for Stiles. He keeps dreaming of Derek leaving, and then him with a razor to his wrist in a hotel bathroom. He couldn’t  handle losing Derek again, and he really needs to stop talking to him. He needs to establish some ground rules, but he can’t. Derek is Stiles’ choice of drug. But as history would show, Stiles is an addict and if his choice of Drug disappears, he’ll find another to replace it.

He tells himself that he’s done well keeping the distance between them. He’s gone through rehab, and two weeks at home without doing anything more than texting a couple times a day, and he’s maintained his daily schedule without issue. He’s been functioning better than he has in a very long time.

They’ve finally wrapped up their contract negotiations with the label, and Allison is the official contract holder. However, the contract will be renewed every three months, and if the band isn’t happy they can renegotiate. They hold all the power this time. 

Kate is missing, and all of her clients have been reassigned to other partners within the label. Apparently, Chris has his own contract with all employees within the label. He essentially owns the right to all contracts filed by the label, and if a rep leaves the company, the contract reverts back to the label. Thus insuring that employees don’t quit and take their clients with them. It’s dirty, but Stiles lets it go because it actually saves their asses. 

Theo has finally been released of his duties. Allison was most upset with the fact that he let things get so bad, when his job literally depended on preventing that. However, she let him go with the explanation that Stiles was better, and no longer needed a handler. She promised to contact him if they required his services again, but they all knew that was a lie.

It also turns out Morrell was in fact a friend of Kate’s, but they can’t prove to a court of law that she was doing anything unethical when it came to Stiles’ treatment. Turns out the deposits into her account from Kate are easily explained away as rent. Since Kate had lost her job with the label, she’d had to find more affordable living until she could find another firm that would hire her with her new reputation. It checked out, and that was as far as their hard evidence went, so the case was closed. However, Morrell will not be allowed to treat any patient affiliated with  _ Argent Records _ again. 

Stiles has started seeing his new therapist, which happens to be Natalie Martin, because who can you trust more than your best friends mother? Natalie’s approach is a lot less forceful than Morrell’s counseling. She listens more than she talks, and has a way of always answering everything with a question. Her questions aren’t for her benefit, she’s not asking to gather knowledge. Her questions are for Stiles. Anytime he demonstrates confusion, she re-words his question back to him, and asks him to explore it more. 

Stiles trusts her.

She hasn’t said anything out right about any bad advice given to him by Morrell, but Stiles notices that not once has she said, or implied that he’s not good enough for Derek. Any time he mentions putting distance between himself and his friends, she backtracks with more why’s until Stiles talks himself out of it, and realizes how much that can hurt him. He’s never done well alone.

So, he’s trying to throw Morrell out the metaphorical window, and is trying to let Natalie’s light illuminate the corners of his mind.

Stiles is pulled from his thoughts when his phone buzzes.

**Derek: Can I see you?**

Stiles scrubs his head before throwing the blanket over him so he can hide. After a few slow beats in his chest, he unlocks his phone and sends a short text.

**Stiles: Sure. Noon, my place?**

**Derek: I’ll see you then.**

It’s as good a time as any. Time to tell the man he loves, that they aren’t in any place to try and be anything more than friends. If not Derek too, then Stiles still needs to find his footing, and learn to love himself. As Mama Ru always says ‘ _ If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you gonna love anybody else.’ _

Stiles climbs out of bed and tiptoed down the hall toward the shower. Isaac and Bangle still sleeping in the guest room, while Isaac makes sure Stiles isn’t a suicide risk. Stiles has no intention of trying again, he still doesn’t remember trying the first time, but he did. He understands his friends precautions, and he loves them even more for it.

* * *

Isaac offered to make himself scarce so that Stiles and Derek could have some time alone, but Stiles told him it wouldn’t be necessary. Isaac looked like Stiles had just asked him some great philosophical question, so Stiles explained to Isaac that it wasn’t going to be a reunion type of visit. As much as his friends wanted him and Derek to work out, Stiles isn’t ready for that. 

Isaac listened to Stiles as he opened up about his sessions with Morrell and Natalie. Stiles hadn’t opened up to anyone about his therapy, but Isaac was always one of the easier ones to talk to. His face soft, open, and ready to support you. 

Then Stiles slipped that it might be better that Isaac stay, it’s safer that way. 

“Safer?” Isaac asks.

Stiles hates that he let that slip. “I don’t know, just in case things get heated.”

“You think Derek will be mad? Mad enough that you need back up?” Isaac pauses. “Or you just want to know you’re not alone when he leaves.”

Stiles, still in communication mode, answers. “Both, I guess.”

Isaac leaves his eyes on him, allowing Stiles time to find more words to explain. 

“We all saw Derek this year. The minute something upset him, he flipped some switch we didn’t know he had. The things he said to me…” Stiles swallows remembering everything Derek said with the sole intention of tearing him apart. “We saw a mean streak we didn’t even know he possessed, and we didn’t want to see if for what it was. But I see it now.”

Isaac nods, rubbing Stiles’ back. “I’m proud of you.”

Stiles takes a deep breath. “So, if things do go south, it’d make me feel better knowing you’re down the hall. I don’t think you’ll have to intervene, in fact I’d prefer you didn’t. I need to do this alone. But when he leaves, it’d make me feel better knowing I could come sit with you for awhile and not be alone.”

“You got it.” Isaac pulls Stiles into his side and presses his face into his hair. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Stiles can’t help but doubt it. His new memories of Derek spitting knives, more familiar than the gentle eyes he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. The truth is, Stiles doesn’t know Derek anymore.

* * *

When Derek stepped into Stiles’ apartment, the last thing he expected was for Stiles to sit him down opposite his kitchen island, pour them both a cup of coffee, and tell him that he’s not ready for a relationship. 

He told him how he finally understands why they can’t be together, and it’s okay. Before Derek could deny one reason, Stiles had already moved on to the next. It felt rehearsed, and Derek’s heart was breaking. 

Stiles felt like he needed to draw a line, and Derek had to respect that. 

Honestly, after listening to Stiles open up about all the reasons, Derek felt lucky to even have the chance at a friendship with Stiles. He knew he’d treated Stiles’ like shit, he’d spent the last five months kicking his own ass over it, but that wasn’t what Stiles needed. Even if Derek had taught  _ himself _ a lesson, Stiles hadn’t seen it for himself first hand. 

Derek had hoped that Stiles wouldn’t remember everything he’d put him through over those months. He knew that was a selfish hope, but it remained just the same. Even though Derek was punishing himself for his behavior, he dreaded facing up to his actions with anyone else, let alone Stiles.

There’s a difference between being mad, and vengeful. Somehow Derek stepped over the line and never looked back. He had every right to be mad at Stiles, but no right to try and destroy him.

“I love you, Derek. I do.” Stiles says, fingers curled around his mug of coffee gone cold. “We just need to figure out who we are after everything that’s happened, before we can even think about something together.”

So, Derek respects Stiles’ decision, zips his lips with a smile, and doesn’t tell Stiles about his ‘might be’ memories. 

“Are you…” Stiles asks, fingers tapping lightly against his mug. “You haven’t really said anything.”

Derek takes a deep breath, “I understand. You’re right. I hurt you too, and you need time to heal, and it’s not up to me how quickly you do.” Derek looks Stiles’ in the eyes, and they linger a moment, the resolve clear. “I wish I could say I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know, it’s okay.” Stiles says.

“No, it’s not. Nothing I did was okay, you didn’t deserve everything I did. I might have thought you did, but I was wrong.” Derek swallows, looking Stiles in the eye no matter how much he wants to look away. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

They don’t say much after that, and Derek spares Stiles the stress of asking him to leave. He tells Stiles he has a phone conference with the label, and excuses himself. Just seconds after the door clicks closed behind him, Derek’s eyes spill over, and he promises himself he’s going to woo the fuck out of Stiles as soon as he lets him.

* * *

Stiles wants to rip out his insides and pretend they didn't belong to him. He wants to be loyal, he wants to be fake, because those were the only parts of him that were strong. It would be so easy to slip back into the role he played when Derek came back, and one look into the familiar bright green eyes almost had him doing it.

He barely held himself together until the moment his front door separated himself from Derek. Letting Derek go will be one of the hardest things he’s ever done, but he has to.

He doesn’t go for Isaac’s room like he wants to, looking for long arms to wrap around him. No, he goes straight to his room, shuts his door and works more on his new album with the look of Derek’s face etched into his skin.

* * *

Stiles sits in the studio, instrumentals already mastered, and ready to record his vocals. He decided to wait until everyone else was done, because this song was too hard, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it. It was the first song he’d written since rehab, and up until now he’d only opened up to his therapists, and Isaac the one time. 

The studio’s dark, the faces barely visible through the glass. Stiles holds his ear phones, closes his eyes and starts on his queue.

_ “[There's a room ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0jYA7eG0bo)in a hotel in New York City that shares our fate and deserves our pity. I don't want to remember it all, the promises I made if you just hold on.” _ Stiles hopes he never remembers those last few moments before his lifted the knife to his wrists. If he could go back, he’d tell himself to just hold on. Hold on, for one more minute.  _ “Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on.” _ _   
_   
_ “And I just need enough of you to dull the pain.”  _ He just wanted to be happy, to pretend nothing ever changed.  __ “Just to get me through the night 'til we're twins again.” 

He didn’t want to think about what had become of his relationship with Derek.  _ “'Till we're stripped down to our skeletons again.” _ He just wanted to go back to how it all began, to the heart of it all. _ “'Till we're saints just swimming in our sins again.”  _ When they were young, and innocent. Two kids in love.   
  
But there was Kate.  _ “And there's a jet black crow droning on and on and on.” _ Around the corner at every turn. _ “Up above our heads droning on and on and on.” _

But love was just a breath away.  _ “Keep making trouble 'till you find what you love.” _ After Derek no one ever burned half as bright, but Stiles searched.  _ “I need a new partner in crime and you shrug.” _ __   
  
Stiles’ mind floats back to a bright hotel room, with Derek’s smile beaming at him from across a small table while they eat. 

_ “There's a room in a hotel in New York City that shares our fate and deserves our pity. I don't want to remember it all…”  _

Not only did he cut his wrists that night, but he cut Derek from his life. He bled out all the pain and suffering hed kept pent up for years over the loss of Derek, and only now can he see that everything he and Derek shared since he’s been back was only temporary. He was naive and wanted so badly to believe that he could have his love, that he never let go of his pain.

_ “The promises I made if you just hold on.”  _ Stiles shakes out his hands.  _ “Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on.”  _ Stiles can only think about his own health now.  _   
_   
_ “A birth and a death on the same day.”  _ Stiles pain died that day in that hotel tub.  _ “And honey I only appeared so I can fade away.” _ He still feels it though, when Stiles’ thoughts get dark, he looks in the glass and sees it staring back at him.  _ “I wanna throw my hands in the air and scream. And I could just die laughing on your spiral of shame.” _ _   
_   
Stiles sees the faces of his friends, how they looked at him that morning in the hospital. _ “And there's a jet black crow droning on and on and on.” _ They feared this wouldn’t be the last time they looked at him in a hospital bed. _ “Up above our heads droning on and on and on.”  _ They feared that next time he wouldn’t get so lucky.  _ “Hit it, never quit it, I have been through the wreck.”  _ Stiles can’t let them down. _ “But I can string enough to show my face in the light again!” _ _   
_   
Yes, bad things happened.  _ “There's a room in a hotel in New York City that shares our fate and deserves our pity.”  _ But Stiles is going to make it up to them.  _ “I don't want to remember it all, the promises I made if you just hold on.” _ He prays they can find just a little more faith for him. __ “Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on”

After the first sing through the rest are easier, and they iron out the vocals. Stiles may never sing this live, but he sang it once and that’s all he needed.

It may not even make it on the album.

* * *

They’ve finally launched the last leg of the tour, and all the fans were able to use their previous tickets for entry.  _ Were! at the Disco, _ is an even bigger deal now that they’ve had a year to spread among the fans. Their merch table does great at every show, more and more people pause in the meet and greets instead of just passing him by to get to the bigger names. 

Jackson smiles almost all the time now. Surprisingly, the only time he doesn’t smile is on stage while he fights to maintain his stage persona. Now, he laughs with everyone on tour with them. When he’s not running around each city with Danny sightseeing, he’s playing xBox with Scott and Allison. Come to think of it, Derek can’t remember the last time he heard Jackson insult someone.

Erica and Boyd are doing great, and they have a huge following. Their  _ ship _ has blown up among the fans, and they’ve started a YouTube channel of Vlogs, while Boyd tries out another story telling method. His editor wouldn’t leave him alone about writing weekly articles about life on the road, so they settled for vlogs to be posted on the paper’s website. Boyd spends hours in each city taking artistic shots of sunrises, or ten minutes of cars passing outside the bus for him to speed up with a time lapse within his editing software.

Derek had no idea Boyd had an eye for film, and wishes Boyd had done this since the beginning. It would have been nice to be able to go back and peek back in on the entirety of the tour. All those memories that Derek knows how easily can be lost. Derek shakes his head and orders Boyd a Drone to try out some new shots. 

Erica has taken to social media like a pro, and half of their success probably goes to Erica’s online presence alone. People love feeling like they’re heard, and Erica hears everything. 

With his friends settling into their new lifestyles, Derek can’t help but wonder what the next step for himself is. Stiles has maintained a wide distance between them, but if they are in close proximity he’s friendly, and caring. The few times Derek has tried to talk to him Stiles says ‘bro’, and ‘buddy’ at the end of every sentence, like he’s constantly reminding Derek that they’re just friends.

When Derek tries to have a heart to heart conversation, Stiles listens, and answers the same every time.

These conversations break Derek’s heart. The way Stiles talks about it is so detached, and without emotion, they’re just facts. It’s not like when Stiles would try to defend why he lied, where anything could be interpreted as a need to be understood or pitied even. It’s just… this is how it is. 

It’s heart breaking. 

Stiles still thinks he’s a suicide risk, and he’s trying to minimalize the damage before it even happens.

* * *

_ Were! at the Disco’s  _ hype has finally lifted them to the point of being asked to perform on talk shows,  award shows, and the like. Right now they’re doing an unplugged segment for Spotify, and after a couple interviews, makeup checks, and refreshments, they finally settle in to record. 

While Stiles was in rehab, and the couple months after while they made sure he was ready to tour again, his band worked on more songs for a new album. They finally released the album last month and most of the songs were being really well received. One song Derek wishes would garner more hype is  _ House of Memories _ . So in hopes he can change that, and broadcast his statement further, he makes it his choice of song in the small set list for Spotify Unplugged. 

The studio’s dark with the attempt of looking like an intimate performance in a run down bar. Derek settles with the guitar in his lap after their first two songs of Erica and Jackson’s choice. Derek slipped this in as third, and they’ll finish with their crowd pleaser  _ Don’t threaten me with a good time.  _

Derek’s guitar is nested comfortably, and the mic is set to his new level. He waits for Boyd to tap them in signaling the ready. 

_ “I[f you're a lover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9N-v3KURSc), you should know, the lonely moments just get lonelier the longer you're in love, than if you were alone.”  _ Derek never thought he could feel this way, he didn’t see it coming. When he was avoiding Stiles, he didn’t think he was actually in love, but Stiles stayed close enough Derek got his fill and never got lonely. Now… 

_ “Memories turn into daydreams, become a taboo.”  _ Now he’s barely allowed to humor the idea of a personal future with Stiles because Stiles won’t allow himself close enough to hurt anyone else, or be hurt himself.

_ “I don't want to be afraid. The deeper that I go, it takes my breath away. Soft hearts electric souls. Heart to heart and eyes to eyes. Is this taboo?”  _

Derek looks into the camera, hoping one day Stiles watches this and finally listens to the song. Derek wants Stiles to understand that he understands what got them here. He understands why Stiles did the things he did.

_ “Baby we built this house on memories. Take my picture now, shake it till you see it.”  _ Derek’s here now.  _ “And when your fantasies become your legacy, promise me a place in your house of memories.” _

Derek fears Stiles might be trying to forget him.

_ “I think of you from time to time, more than I thought I would. You were just too kind, and I was too young to know. That's all that really matters, I was a fool!” _

Derek repeats the chorus, Jackson and Erica harmonizing with him to make up for the lack of instrumentals. 

_ “Baby we built this house on memories. Take my picture now. Shake it till you see it.” _ Erica echos behind Derek and Jackson, her voice a soft lilt.  _ “And when your fantasies become your legacy. Promise me a place in your house of memories.” _

Derek comes in strong.  _ “Those thoughts of past lovers, they'll always haunt me! I wish I could believe you'd never wrong me! Then will you remember me in the same way as I remember you.” _

Derek fights the onset of another migraine as he finishes out the song. 

* * *

Stiles glances off stage to see Derek sitting in a chair with a bottle of water, eyes on him. Stiles doesn’t let his eyes linger, trying his best not to lead Derek on. He can’t trust himself to stay strong. He’s barely hanging on as it is. But damn, what he would give to surrender. He wishes he could fall into Derek’s chest and know he’d be okay. But he wouldn’t. He’ll never be okay again. 

The more he settles into his skin, with the both of them running their own lives, the more Stiles understands that a future with Derek is just too volatile. But god, he still loves Derek with his whole being.

_ “I[ got those jet pack blues](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iq2gpwecmFA) just like Judy. The kind that make June feel like September.”  _ Stiles tries again to make Derek understand that he may be fine one second but he feels the draw of drugs every second of every day, and all it will take is an explosion between them to set him off.

_ “I’m the last one that you’ll ever remember.”  _ Stiles sways with his guitar, glued to it as of late, and writing song after song.   _ “And I’m trying to find my peace of mind behind these two white highway lines. When the city goes silent, the ringing in my ears gets violent.”  _ Stiles twists his head, miming a sudden migraine.

_ “She’s in a long black coat tonight waiting for me in the downpour outside. She’s singing ‘Baby come home’ in a melody of tears, while the rhythm of the rain keeps time.”  _ Stiles thinks back to when he’s let Lydia read the scribbled page of lyrics, and how her face twisted in confusion, trying to figure out who was calling to him.

Then how Isaac read it and understood instantly. 

It wasn’t a who. It was a what. 

The  _ what  _ being his addictions: Pills and Derek. How alluring they remain, even though Stiles knows the chaos they entail.

_ “And I remember ‘Baby, come home’.”  _ His friends harmonize with him, echoing back and forth at each other.

_ “Did you ever love her? Do you know? Or did you never want to be alone?”  _ Stiles skin heats with just how alone he feels now, but this is his choice.  _ “And she was singing ‘Baby, come home’. I remember ‘Baby, come home’.” _

Stiles looks back at his friends and then Derek on impulse _. “I’ve got those jet pack blues. Fight off the light tonight and just stay with me. Honey, don’t you leave.”  _ He wishes he could find comfort in his Derek again. It’s been a long six months.

_ “Don’t you remember how we used to split a drink? It never mattered what it was. I think our heads were just that close.”  _ Another impulsive glance, and Derek’s eyes hold weight. As though he’s trying to telepathically promise Stiles that he won’t break him. Stiles shakes his head. _ “The sweetness never lasts, you know.” _

It’s the truest line in the song, it never fucking lasts.

Stiles throat burns with the need for a drink, having been sober for far too long. _ “She’s in a long black coat tonight waiting for me in the downpour outside. She’s singing ‘Baby, come home’ in a melody of tears while the rhythm of the rain keeps time.” _

_ “And I remember ‘Baby, come home’.”  _

They finish out the song, and Stiles shouts an echo, hating for the first time how he does in fact remember everything. He can never forget, and he wishes he could. It would be easier to move on that way. 

* * *

When Stiles catches sight of Erica making her way toward him behind the venue, he braces himself. She hasn’t lashed out at him in any way since she visited him in the hospital, but the memory of her fist to his nose remains pretty strong.

She sits down next to him and takes his cigarette to pull from it and blow it out quickly. “Yep, still gross.” 

“More for me.” Stiles says, pulling the cigarette delicately back from her. 

She smiles, then lets her head tilt back, and takes in the sun. “Fucking hot in the south, isn’t it.”

Stiles laughs. “Yeah, definitely stay hydrated.”

They sit in silence a few minutes before Erica tests the silence, and Stiles keeps his eyes forward as the stage crew carts equipment into the arena.

“You know Derek’s like… into you, right?” She pauses trying to find the right words. “Like, he finally wants to give you guys a shot.”

“I know.” Stiles says, lighting another cigarette. 

“So then why aren’t you dating him?” She says with an obvious hand before her.

Stiles takes a long drag. “Because I’d destroy him.”

She nods, and looks at something in the distance, before finally choosing her words. “I’m pretty sure he’d be fine with that.” Then she stands up and walks away. 

* * *

Boyd drops a bag of ice in front of Derek on the bus where he rests his head in his hands at the table. “You really need to schedule that doctors appointment.”

Derek groans, his brain trying to break free of his skull. “I know.”

“How long has it been since you started getting these migraines?” Boyd asks, dropping prescription strength tylenol in front of him with some water.

Derek dutifully throws them back and goes to fall onto the couch with the ice pack over his eyes. “Too long.”

“Why won’t you just make a damn appointment? We can even bring the doctor to you, like everyone else does.” Boyd reasons.

Derek grabs a blanket from the back of the sofa and haphazardly covers himself. “It’s not that easy, they’ll want to take a shit load of head scans, and run tests.”

Boyd remains silent a moment and Derek peaks out to see Boyd dialing his phone.

“Who are you calling?”

Boyd holds out a finger and starts walking down the hall. “Yes, Mrs. Hale. It’s Vernon.” 

Derek shouts down the hall, but the resulting pain in his skull stops him from any further protests, and he tries to find peace in sleep.

That night, the bus stops in a hospital garage, and Derek is escorted inside by far more security than necessary, and he’s brought to a doctor who’s waiting for him. 

It’s going to be a long night.

* * *

Derek finds himself admitted to the hospital for observation due to the results of his scans. They’re going to monitor his brain for twenty-four hours. So Derek sits in the bed, with wires cascading down from his head, and looks down at his phone trying to figure out how to initiate a conversation with Stiles.

Twenty minutes later he finds that he doesn’t have to. Stiles does it for him. 

**Stiles: I know I’ve been really cold, but I want you to know I care about you, and I really hope you get out of there soon with a clean bill of health.**

Derek can’t fight the stutter in his chest, and the tickle in his abdomen at having finally heard from Stiles  _ first  _ in what feels like eternity. Admittedly, Derek got spoiled to Stiles at his heels earlier in the year. 

**Derek: I know. Me too. What’s going on on your end?**

**Stiles: Just crammed in our busses, and trying to make it across state lines during rush hour traffic. I really hate when we can’t make it from locations over night. Especially in Texas, where it’s hot as balls, and the bus’ AC can’t keep up.**

**Derek: I’d take a sweaty bus ride over feeling like a lab rat.**

**Stiles: You’d feel differently if your bunk was across from Scott’s stinky ass.**

Derek smiles, fingers moving.

**Derek: You’re right, hard pass.**

A few minutes pass, and Derek tries to find an easy segue to keep the conversation moving.

**Stiles: Are you okay?**

Derek’s heart clenches, is his mom not keeping everyone up to date? He just kind of assumed that someone was passing updates around like they all did with Stiles. Derek imagines Stiles sitting in his bunk chewing his nails to the quick, scabs already forming, worrying that Derek’s condition has started to worsen. 

**Derek: I’m okay. I’ve just been having migraines, and the doctors just want to make sure it’s not going to progress to something worse. They think the extended exposure to loud music every night, has inflamed something. Idk, I honestly stopped listening. But I’m okay.**

**Stiles: Thank god.**

A few minutes pass.

**Stiles: is it sad that I hoped your memories were coming back?**

Derek can’t even form words. Does this mean that Stiles still does want to be with him, deep down, beneath his cold new exterior, is still the man who swore his love?

**Stiles: sorry. Ignore me. I’m glad you’re okay.**

**Derek: Don’t apologise. I wish I could get my memories back, believe me.**

After careful thought, Derek takes a risk.

**Derek: Tell me a story.**

Stiles obviously hesitates, just as Derek expected.

**Stiles: About what? Us?**

**Derek: Whatever you want. I just want to talk to you.**

**Stiles: That’s a lot of pressure.**

**Derek: No pressure.**

**Stiles: Uhm, okay. Wow, this is really hard. Like, I keep thinking of stories about us, but I don’t know how far too far is, and I don’t want to lead you on, but AH Derek. You’re breaking me. Tell me what you want me to tell you about. If you want something about us, or like my childhood.**

Derek laughs, seeing some of the old Stiles from the first leg of the tour shine through. The Stiles that over analyzes things and is far too used to putting his foot in his mouth. 

**Derek: Alright, okay. I’d literally love to hear about anything, but maybe I can make it easier by asking about a specific memory that only you have.**

**Stiles: okay.**

Derek debates his suggestion, worried he might be the one to push too far, but he wants to connect with Stiles again. 

**Derek: Wanna tell me about our first date?**

The silence is palpable. 

**Stiles: After weeks of my complaining about how I was going to quit the band, because I just wanted to take you on a real date, without my label suing me - I came back to the hotel one night to a romantic dinner that you’d planned down to the Pandora station. It was super cheezy.**

The flush of blood rushes to Derek’s cheeks, and he feels like he can see it, candles and all. 

**Stiles: I sang with my mouthful, and you asked me to dance. Then we just cuddled and watched animal planet the rest of the night. It was great.**

Derek’s eyes burn, and he pushes the button for more pain killer as his head starts to throb. 

**Derek: Wish I could remember. Sounds like I was a good boyfriend.**

**Stiles: Of course you were.**

**Derek: I’m sure you were too.**

**Stiles: I was the best. ;)**

**Derek: Hypothetically speaking, if one were to surprise you with something romantic like that, in the near future, would you possibly give that someone another chance?**

**Stiles: Derek.**

Derek deflates, he knew what Stiles would say, but the wink made him brave. 

**Derek: Sorry. I know.**

**Stiles: I’m going to say this one last time okay, and you have to promise not to bring this up again.**

Derek frowns stubbornly at his phone. He’s not promising shit.

**Stiles: I threw away any chance for us that day I slashed my wrists in that hotel. We’ll always know that what led me there was the failure of our relationship. So if we try again, and we don’t work… we’d live in constant fear that I might kill myself. That’s an awful fate for both of us.**

Derek can’t respond. If he does it’ll either be argument or false acceptance.

**Stiles: I understand how you feel, and I hate that I can’t make it better. I do love you, Derek. Hell, every song I’ve written in the past six years tells you just how much I fucking love you. And it sucks that you have to hear me sing one after another every night, and then I tell you that we can’t be together. But I have to, because I love you.**

**Stiles: Myself aside, if I decided to gamble and hope I didn’t end up there again, I’d know that every time we got in a fight that you would be fighting yourself over leaving because I know you Derek, you couldn’t live with yourself if something happened to me.**

Derek’s eyes stream tears, because he knows Stiles is right. He wishes so badly that he could go back to before Stiles started using, and actually listen to everyone. To realize what he realizes now. To let go of all that anger. He wishes he had realized what was really in front of him. 

* * *

 

Derek sits just off stage, refusing to miss any second of being around Stiles because at this rate, Stiles will disappear as soon as the tour is over, and he may only see him in passing. 

Derek listens to the song and tries to see what Stiles saw when he wrote the song.

_ “It was the [Fourth of July](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dbarEloL5UI). You and I were, you and I were fire, fire, fireworks! That went off too soon! And I miss you in the June gloom, too.”  _ Stiles utilizes the audience, his easy persona keeping him light on stage, a character he can slip into most nights.

_ “It was the Fourth of July. You and I were, you and I were fire, fire, fireworks! I said I'd never miss you, but I guess you’ll never know.” _

The more Derek has opened himself to hearing Stiles’ side, the more he understands how much his memory loss hurt him too. He was left holding all the memories, knowing the other may never experience them the same way.

_ “May the bridges I have burned light my way back home on the Fourth of July.” _

Derek sang along to this song a million times before he knew the truth, and tried to figure out how the song fit into Stiles past. He used to complain that Stiles never opened up to him, but he was. Stiles opened up every time he sang. 

_ “I'll be as honest as you let me. I miss your early morning company. If you get me.” _ Stiles bounces from foot to foot as he shreds his guitar.  _ “You are my favorite ‘what if’. You are my best ‘I'll never know’.” _

Derek takes a long drink from his water bottle.

_ “And I'm starting to forget just what summer ever meant to you. What did it ever mean to you?”  _ Stiles shakes the sweat from his hair rapidly. _ “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of it. I just got too lonely, lonely, whoa. In between being young and being right, you were my Versailles at night.” _

As the chorus repeats, Derek head pounds, headaches yet to lessen. 

_ “My 9 to 5 is cutting open old scars. Again and again 'til I'm stuck in your head. Had my doubts, but I let them out. You are the drought, and I'm the holy water you have been without.”  _

Derek texts his mom about his head. She immediately responds with promise of a new specialist.

_ “And all my thoughts of you, they could heat or cool the room. And no, don't tell me you cried. Oh, honey, you don't have to lie.” _ Stiles glances back at Derek over the collar of his flannel. _ “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of it. I just got too lonely, lonely, whoa. In between being young and being right, you were my Versailles at night.” _

Stiles repeats the chorus again, and Derek finds himself missing Stiles attire from months ago. Danny had been working him to the bone, and he was thick and lean in all the right places. His tee’s stretching in all the best places. Now, because of his wrists, Stiles wore long sleeves only. One of Derek’s favorites is the red sweater with the thumb holes that he’d leant Stiles’ in the hospital, but it absolutely swallows Stiles while he tries to put the weight back on. 

The change in Stiles’ voice drags Derek from his thoughts. _ “I wish I'd known how much you loved me. I wish I cared enough to know.” _ Stiles glances back at Derek for a fraction of a second.  _ “I'm sorry every song's about you. The torture of small talk with someone you used to love.” _

Derek listens to the song finish, and then motions for Boyd and Jackson, but they don’t notice. Derek tries to stand but his legs are weak, and it feels like a siren is wailing in his ears, lights splinter across his eyes, and a vice tightens over his temples. He needs to lay down. 

Unable to move he closes his eyes and tries to take deep breaths,until he regains his strength.

* * *

Stiles looks over as they set for the next song and when his eyes land on Derek he drops the bottle from his hands as it was lifting to his lips, throws his guitar down, and he runs as fast as he can to Derek’s side.

“Derek?” Stiles asks, hands ghosting the side of his pale, clammy cheeks. “Derek? Hey, look at me.” 

Stiles can see Derek’s eyes moving behind his lids at lightning speed, so he knows he’s not dead, but he looks far too close the part. 

The crew starts to gather when they realize the music didn’t resume, and Allison is already calling an ambulance, while Scott grabs a bucket of ice sodas to press against Derek’s temples. 

Stiles’ eyes burn with tears. “God damn it, Derek! Look at me!”

Derek’s head sags against Stiles hands, out cold.

“Somebody fucking do something!” Stiles screams, he doesn’t know what to do. He feels absolutely helpless. Stiles settles on his knees between Derek’s and lets Derek sag against him, and supports his weight. Foam from his seizure coagulates on his shoulder, and Stiles wants to murder everyone who should have noticed Derek seizing. Instead Stiles only saw it at the last second. 

Stiles hears the speakers in the arena boom with Finstock informing the audience of a medical emergency. He tells them to sit tight and they will give them an update on the show as soon as they can.

With Derek at Stiles’ ear he can hear the soft whimpers coming from him. Stiles pets his hair, the sweat dripping from him. “Shhh, Derek, help is on the way, okay? Stay with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dunnnn


	33. ACT 3: As soon as we hit the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a shorty, but a goodie. You guys deserve it.

Derek latches onto Stiles’ voice in his ear and realizes that something is very wrong. Stiles is holding him, and if he weren’t in debilitating pain, he’d be pretty happy about that right now. His limbs are heavy, and he can’t move aside from the spasms he’s feeling all over, but Stiles is holding him tight enough that Derek doesn’t fear he’ll fall out of the chair. He’s got the taste of metal in his mouth, mixed with blood. What the fuck happened?

Stiles seems to be kissing his temple and mumbling constant reassurance. Derek wishes he could distinguish the words, understand what happened, but all he’s getting is Stiles’ tone. His skull is splitting in half, and all he wants is to know is what Stiles is saying. Stiles pressense the only thing keeping his breathing in control right now.

Stiles has him.

He’s going to be okay.

His center of gravity shifts as he’s lifted from the chair, but knows Stiles isn’t capable of bearing his weight in his current state of health, so it must be a stagehand. Derek worries he’ll lose the only thing anchoring him, but Stiles’ voice doesn’t stray far as they make their way to what Derek assumes will be an ambulance. 

When Derek is laid flat, he finally manages to open his eyes, desperate to find Stiles whose voice has gone silent. 

Stiles is standing over him nodding at someone, his face blotchy. 

Derek clears his throat, and Stiles looks down to see him blink up at him. 

“Hey, Derek, you’re getting in an ambulance and we’ll meet you at the hospital. Boyd, Jackson, and Erica are right behind you. We’re going to cut the show short and I’ll be there as soon as I can. You’re going to be okay.” Stiles palm remains a firm presence on Derek’s cheek and he wishes Stiles would stay with him. 

Derek’s tired of the eggshells, the caution, all of it. He wants Stiles. He wants to make him happy, and he want to be allowed to love him for the rest of his shitty life.

Derek might have managed a nod before Stiles kissed his forehead and ran away.

* * *

Stiles barely remembers going back on stage to apologize, and promise a rain check for all of their tickets (again), before running off and jumping in Finstock’s car and bolting to the hospital. He’s already on the phone with Talia, not just to make sure she knows, but because he kind of needs his mom. 

The minute the words leave his lips, the flood of emotion he’d been holding back the last few months finally break free. He has to pull the car over to the edge of the highway, until the flood clears enough from his eyes to see again. 

What if Derek had died, right there in that chair? How would Stiles live with himself knowing he denied himself a few final months of Derek’s love. Suddenly, his reservations seem like semantics. He wishes he’d told Derek he loved him every time he had the chance. Kissed his frowns away, held his hand, and just let it happen. He wishes...

Talia calms him, and tells him to keep her updated. She’s a couple hours out just as soon as she’s able to find an available seat on a plane. 

* * *

Derek wakes up to his friends and family strewn across the hospital room, but the only person he cares to see is Stiles. He squints as he scans the room, his head throbbing lightly. He reaches up with a hand and finds his head wrapped in a bandage. 

Great. More surgery. 

He tries to open his mouth and a crackle comes out. His mom looks up at that and immediately stands to offer him a straw to sip. “What happened?” He croaks after a drink.

She smoothes his eyebrows. “You had a minor leaks coming from an aneurysm, which is why you’ve been having all these migraines. They didn’t catch it before because they were so small, and hadn’t left much evidence yet. They detected it in the ER, and you went in for surgery immediately. Everything went great. You’re okay, sweet heart.”

Derek stutters a moment, his fears swelling inside him. “Did I… was there… could I have…”

She cups his face. “Take a breath.”

Derek closes his eyes. “If you figure out I’ve forgotten something. Tell me. I want to know everything this time.” He can’t imagine losing Stiles again, or anyone else. He can’t lose anyone. He can’t go through that again.

“Of course.” She says. 

The others start stirring, and they all smile at Derek, happy to see him awake, but they remain silent, and stare at his stomach.

“What?” Derek asks, and lifts his head wondering if he suffered an injury to the abdomen or something. Instead he sees Stiles asleep at the edge of his bed with his head pillowed in his arms at Derek’s side, his hands wrapped tightly around Derek’s. Derek flexes his fingers in Stiles’ hands  to get his attention. 

Stiles stirs, his eyes casting over the room as he turns toward Derek with heavy eyes. When his eyes land on Derek’s, Derek notes his hesitation, the firm set of his lips.

Derek barely manages to lift his arm and clumsily poke at Stiles’ face. “Stiles.”

“Hi.” Stiles answers, his nose flaring, and eyes brimming with salt.

Derek’s fingers fumble trying to hold Stiles’ hand back. 

Stiles adjusts his and they lace their fingers together in silent relief. 

Derek clears his throat. “Thank you for staying.”

Stiles wipes his eyes, as his nose turns a darker shade of red with unacknowledged emotion, and forces a laugh. “I learned my lesson the first time.”

Derek decides he’s allowed to be bold in his current state. “Come here.”

Stiles doesn’t hesitate and stands up, but floats mid air for a second unsure of what Derek wanted from him. 

Derek tilts his head back, eyes on Stiles’ and repeats himself. “Come here.”

Stiles chokes on a laugh and closes the distance, curling his arms around Derek’s head, creating a private space for just the two of them. Stiles kiss rips the air right from Derek’s lungs, and his hand comes up to barely hold Stiles’ hip. 

Derek deepens the kiss, both of them drowning in each other. Derek grows dizzy with each passing second, Stiles slipping beneath his skin, and warming him to the bone.

Someone clears their throat, and Stiles laughs, only separating from Derek’s mouth. They remain in their private space with their noses bumping and their eyes making silent promises. 

“Excuse me.” The interrupting throat, speaks. 

Stiles looks up to see Derek’s doctor standing next to them. 

“I need to see to Mr. Hale.”

Stiles salutes him, face scarlet. “Sure thing, doc.” 

* * *

While Stiles waits across the room his joy is short lived as he remembers why he and Derek can’t be together, but god does he want to believe they could. Kissing Derek,  _ really  _ kissing Derek, with all their history laid bare between them, it was like letting the sunlight in an abandoned home for the first time in a decade. Stiles doesn’t want to close it back up. He wants to wipe away the cobwebs, and dust off his knees. 

He wants to try and build a life with Derek. Consequences be damned.

* * *

Later that day Danny shows up in the doorway with his laptop bag slung over his shoulder, and heavy circles under his eyes. Jackson immediately rushes to him and grumbles his concern. 

Stiles hides his smile, and glances over at Derek who’s still resting. The only people still in the room are Talia, Stiles, and Jackson. Stiles never would have guessed that Jackson would have been so loyal, he’d always imagined Boyd would be the one who would stay by his friends sides at hospitals, and run himself ragged. 

Erica explained that Boyd had a lot of experience with hospital stays, since Erica and Derek had spent a lot of time in and out of them. He has a gut feeling of whether he should stay or not. When Boyd doesn’t leave their sides, that’s when they start to worry. 

It’s some time after three in the morning, and Talia sleeps in the unused patient bed on the other side of the room, while Jackson sleeps in the fold out chair. Stiles prides himself in the fact he can sleep anywhere, and has been catching naps all over the room. He may not have his pillow, but he’s got Derek’s hand, which is almost as good.

Danny’s a surprise though. Stiles can’t remember Derek and Danny ever hanging out.

Talia stands and meets him across the room with a hug. “Daniel, thank you for coming.”

“Of course, Mrs. Hale.” Danny answers, hefting his bag higher over his shoulder where it slipped.

“Please, call me Talia, we’ve been over this.” She clicks her tongue but leads him to the small table in the corner of the room, farthest from Derek so as not to disturb him. “Stiles, I called Danny here because we’ve been waiting for an opportunity to talk to you, and we had a major break in our investigation this morning. So it’s important this not wait any longer.”

“Investigation?” Stiles stands with his arms crossed, mentally preparing himself for more shit to hit the fan. 

Jackson tells them he’ll make a coffee run to allow them time to talk, and Danny tilts his head back for a quick press of lips.

Stiles tunes into everything around him, Jackson and Danny’s hushed whisper, the heels clicking down the hallway outside, a siren fading into the distance, the steady rhythm of the heart monitor behind him. He’s hyper aware, prepared for a fight.

Talia turns her full attention to Stiles. “We’ve been looking into Kate since she released the article. My mothering instincts kicked into full gear, and I couldn’t sit by watching two of my boys suffer.” She pauses, looking toward Derek in thought. She shakes the thought away. “I contacted your friend Daniel, and he’s been helping me since.”

Stiles blinks between them. “Why didn’t you tell me? Wouldn’t this be something I should have been aware of?”

Danny shakes his head. “You’d have been on a witch hunt, and we couldn’t risk her catching on.”

“Fine.” Stiles sighs. “What did you guys find?”

They exchange looks before Danny turns his computer toward Stiles and they give him a full report. 

* * *

Stiles head rests in his hands by the end of their long list of proof that Kate is basically the spawn of satan. Stiles hadn’t been crazy. She was a sociopath, and her clients never stood a chance. 

Talia reached forward and took one of Stiles’ hands in hers. “Now, what we are about to show you, is going to upset you, and it’s going to hurt. But we are right here, okay?”

Stiles nods, unable to imagine anything hurting him at this point, but welcomes it anyway, because ‘why the hell not?’. 

Danny opens a video file and surveillance footage appears on the screen. It shows someone in a hood enter a room in what appears to be a hotel, and then fifteen minutes later the hood reappears from the room it entered. Then Danny cleans up the resolution and zooms in on a photograph across the hall to show the reflection of the hooded figure.

Theo Raiken.

Stiles looks at the time and date stamp at the corner of the screen, his voice is barely audible. “What is this?”

The video continues and Aiden come down the hall entering the same room. 

Talia squeezes Stiles’ hand with both of hers.

Stiles vision blurs at the edges. “Someone please tell me exactly what I’m seeing, please. I can’t…”

“This is proof that Theo was in your hotel room about twenty minutes before Aiden found you.” Danny says. “The medical report and official timeline in the reports are inconclusive, but you should have already been bleeding out by the time Theo exited your room.”

Talia continues. “Yesterday, Chris Argent called Theo in for a meeting. He had a personal investigator waiting there with him, and they managed to get a confession that Theo had been involved. We don’t know the details, but he’s in police custody, and we are going to get to the bottom of this.”

Stiles can’t breathe. “He tried to kill me?”

Talia, rubs his back. “He didn’t though. Stiles, look at me.”

He tries, but all he can do is try to steady his breathing.

She continues. “He’ll probably strike a deal for immunity.”

“Immunity?!” Derek barks, and they all jerk to attention. Apparently, Derek had woken up and was listening in quietly. 

Talia turns to her son. “Derek, I didn’t know you were-”

“How could anyone grant him immunity, he tried to kill Stiles!” Derek’s fist clenched the fabric at his waist. “He’s a fucking murderer.”

Danny nods. “He’ll face charges for what he’s done, but he’ll ask for immunity as far as any further charges that can be put on someone else, like Kate. We strongly believe Kate hired Theo, and if Theo can prove that, it might be worth the immunity deal.”

“Kate tried to have me killed.” Stiles mumbles, eyes on Derek, his voice cracking. “Because I loved you.”

Stiles stands on weak knees. “I just need…” He stumbles out of the room and down the hall to find a supply closet he can collapse in, and try to make sense of things.

* * *

“Why didn’t you tell him? How long have you known he didn’t try to kill himself that night?” Derek asks. He hates that he’s still bedridden and unable to chase after Stiles, and comfort him in some way. All this time, he’s been terrified of himself, and what he could do. Only now he finds out he never did those things that he believed he had for so long.

She moves over to sit closer to him, and keeps her voice low. “I told him why, I couldn’t let him draw any attention. Kate is good. The few times she caught the scent that someone was digging into her past, suddenly documents would go missing - they’d just disappear as if they never existed.”

Danny’s hands never leave the keyboard, still working across the room. 

“She really blackmailed all of her clients?” Derek asks, wondering how he ever loved her.

Danny speaks as he types simultaneously. “Blackmail, extortion, dirty contracts, embezzling, you name it and she’s probably done it.”

Derek directs his next question at Danny. “Why can’t the police find this themselves, why are you doing it?” 

Danny shrugs. “They aren’t as good as I am. I’m taking that bitch down.” Danny’s eyes flash to Talia. “Sorry, Ms. Hale.” 

“Oh stop it.” She waves him off, then looks back at Derek. “I’ve been trying to find something on her since your accident, but I never found anything until Daniel came along. He’d already been trying to find loopholes in Stiles contract, and after the events of this year he’d only tried harder for his friends. Then Aiden went to Danny and told him that Stiles didn’t kill himself. He couldn’t prove it, but he knew it was staged because of the needle.” 

Derek’s eyes started to glaze over. “Stiles doesn’t like needles.” A low throb starts to pulse at the base of his skull, and then he’s not in his hospital room anymore.

_ Stiles sits on the corner of a bed, in a basic unassuming room, probably a hotel. There’s a doctor taking his blood pressure, and temperature in front of him, and Stiles looks pale and blotchy. He continues to sniffle the whole while. Clearly down with some seasonal illness like the cold or the flu. _

_ The man hands him a pack of medication and gives him instructions for when to take them, and for how long. _

_ Derek frowns. “Why don’t you just give him an antibiotic shot? He’d be better by morning for his show tomorrow.” _

_ Stiles’ jaw drops. “No, not even an option!”  _

_ The doctor laughs and begins packing his things up.  _

_ Stiles points a weak finger at Derek. “I’m already on death's door, and you’re trying to actually kill me.” _

_ “What are you talking about?” Derek laughs. _

_ “Needles. You know I hate needles.” _

_ “More than being sick for days?” _

_ “More than a broken bone.” Stiles rolls over to bury himself in the blankets. “Now don’t threaten me with needles ever again, and come hold me.” _

_ Derek did just that. _

“Derek?” Talia asks, hanging over his bed, and his doctor on the other side.

“What?” Derek asks, getting his bearing. 

“You just stopped responding, and your eyes glazed over for a minute.” His mom answers, the panic barely hidden in her voice.

Derek clears his throat, almost sure that had been a memory. “Uh, I just got lost in thought. Sorry.” 

The doctor doesn’t buy it, but he checks his vitals, and pushes his release date another day out.

Awesome.

* * *

Stiles tries to shut his brain off. He doesn’t want to think about what he just learned, about what he’s been through, or how learning the truth actually derails everything he’s worked for these past months. What the fuck does he do with this?

After about an hour, Stiles peaks out of his closet to see if the coast is clear, and then heads back to Derek’s room. Needing to stay close to him, the one fucked up comfort in his life. 

When he’s almost to the Derek’s door he realizes that he might finally get what he’s always wanted. To take Kate Argent the fuck down.

“Stiles!” Talia smiles, “You came back!”

“What?” Stiles frowns. “I just needed a minute to think, but I’m not leaving Derek.” Stiles glances over, only just remembering what he’d said to Derek before he left the room earlier. They definitely need to have a talk. 

Derek gives him a nod.

Stiles rubs his hands together, spreads his feet into a ready stance, and asks the only thing that matters. “So what do we do now?”

Danny smiles over his laptop, and if Stiles had any remaining worries, they melt away. Danny is a force to be reckoned with, and Stiles is incredibly lucky to have him. 

* * *

With a plan in place everyone finally left Derek and Stiles alone. Stiles is sitting at the end of Derek’s bed with his legs crossed, and hands hidden in the fold they make. He tugs at his sleeves, making sure his scars are hidden. 

Derek nudges him with his foot. “You don’t have to be ashamed of those anymore.” 

Stiles meets his eyes from below his lashes. “But everyone  _ believed  _ it. Even  _ I  _ believed it.”

Derek slides his toe along Stiles’ thigh with the limited range he has. “You shouldn’t have been ashamed then either. Even if you had tried, you survived. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Stiles looks back down at his wrists. 

“You survived, Stiles.” Derek says firmly. “You’re a survivor. Look at everything you’ve been through. You are the strongest person I know.” 

Stiles actually laughs at that. “Sure, yeah, okay.”

Derek rolls his eyes, and a few quiet moments pass. All too aware of Stiles’ silence, and distance, Derek finds the nerve to ask the question that’s been on his mind since Stiles kissed him, and the fear that’s been left in him since Stiles left the room earlier. “Was the kiss earlier… Should I not read into that?” 

“What do you mean?” Stiles looks at him with furrowed brows.

“I mean… are we… do you…?” Derek scratches his head. It sounds dumb in his head. “Do you want to be with me?” Yup, just as dumb out loud.

Stiles doesn’t hesitate, and his whole body sags as the tension drains right out of him. “Of course I do, Derek. That’s never changed. We just can’t.”

Derek looks at his lap, Stiles words replaying from earlier before he left. “Because Kate might try again.” 

“Huh?” Stiles shakes his head. “No, that bitch can try! I swear if I ever fucking see her again.”

Derek hasn’t seen any fight in Stiles in so long, that it actually startles him when he sees the firm line of Stiles’ lips, and low brows. 

“I’ll fucking kill her.” Stiles lets out a long breath. “No, what I meant is, we’ve been over this.” Stiles runs a hand through his hair. “You’ll always feel trapped because if we break up-” Stiles stops abruptly, his eyes wide on Derek. 

“What?”

“I didn’t do this.”

“Do what?” Derek asks, confusion growing.

“This!” Stiles throws his wrists out showing two thick scars up his arms. 

“I know…”

“No, Derek.” Stiles crawls forward, stradling Derek’s waist as his hands sliding up Derek’s chest to gently cup his jaw. 

Derek doesn’t give any indication that he doesn’t appreciate the sudden change in affection, but he’s still not following. 

Stiles looks down at him, his eyes glistening. “ _ I didn’t do it _ . We don’t have to worry about me doing it again, because I never did! I’m okay. We can do this.”

“You’ll give me another chance?” Derek asks in whisper, afraid that if he says it too loud, Stiles will run.

Stiles bumps their noses. “I’m not even going to make sense of who’s getting another chance here. We’ve been through hell, both of us have almost died, and we’re still sitting here. Together. We both want to be together, so what the fuck are we doing?” Stiles laughs at the ridiculousness of it. 

“Really?” Derek asks, his smile splitting his face in two. Up until now everything had been so complicated, but now it seemed all too simple. 

They both know all there is to know, secrets, feelings, history, the whole lot of it. They’ve both gone through hell, and have more baggage than an airport, but they still can’t let go of each other. 

Derek can say without a doubt that he loves Stiles. It may not be the same way he had before, but with everything he knows now, and the man he’s gotten to know over the last year, he knows. 

Derek lifts his hands to Stiles waist and pulls him forward. “You’re serious?”

Stiles nods, their noses bumping. “I love you so much-”

Derek cuts him off with a kiss, and Stiles melts into him. They kiss like they do in rom coms, gently, pleading, but without true heat. Each of them just delighting in the feel of the other’s lips. Derek could do this forever, and they do until a nurse comes in to take Derek’s vitals. 

Stiles steps away to the bathroom, but when he returns the nurse is gone, so he settles in for the night. He shuts the door, turns off the lights, and changes into boxers and tee shirt. He lifts the remote and finds the discovery channel easily, and turns the volume down low. 

Derek watches the light of the tv dance across Stiles skin as he cleans up and brushes his teeth. Derek smiles when Stiles shoves a ready toothbrush in his face. He scrubs obediently and Stiles comes back with two cups, one for spitting the other for rinsing. 

It all feels so easy, like two people slipping into a familiar routine.

Stiles comes up to the bed and looks down beside Derek with a lip pinched between his teeth. 

Derek chuckles, and scoots over the few inches he’s able. It leaves just enough room for Stiles to fit his hip, and sprawl next to Derek. He hooks one leg of Derek’s, and wraps his arm over his abdomen to anchor himself. He pillows his head against Derek’s chest, and Derek holds his back the best he can with the pain medication still being weaned from his system. Their position mirrors their bunk on the bus so perfectly, that Derek can almost imagine the hum of the engine when he closes his eyes.

For the first time in years, Derek doesn’t dread tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> around 15k left, guys. :D


	34. Champion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the small gap in posting. The holidays and a hospital stay kept me kind of busy. Happy New Year!

Derek’s released in just under two weeks, and they get the ball rolling on the rest of the tour, ready to  _ finally  _ wrap it up. It’s been a long year, to say the very least.

Kate’s officially been charged with attempted murder. 

Theo rolled over like the scared little pup he is, and gave the authorities everything they needed to get a conviction. Stiles wasn’t there to see her face when she realized she’d been caught, because Stiles refused to leave Derek’s side again, but from what he hears… it wouldn’t have been anything less than satisfying. In fact, she took a plea deal with a full confession without even going to trial. Fifteen years imprisonment, with the opportunity for early release at ten years. 

At first, Stiles felt it wasn’t enough. Danny pointed out that her sentencing would easily increase with the dozens of charges her former clients have pressed. Chris tried to silence them for the sake of his label, and swore it was just business but Talia didn’t take that too well. 

She reached out to all of her own contacts, and had Danny start the rumor mill. One by one Kate’s clients started reaching out to Stiles since he was the one with an active trial against her, to which he’d direct them to Danny, and Danny would provide their attorney with any evidence he’d dug up on her relation with them. 

The label’s under intense scrutiny so they are on their absolute best behavior. Things have never been better for their bands, and Stiles can’t help but look at Derek and wonder if this was why they met. This was why they were brought together. They had to go through all of this in order to end Kate’s reign of terror. 

It’s melodramatic, but somehow it still brings him peace. 

Stiles walks the runway through the audience and grabs hands as he starts the next song.

_ “[They say we are ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBiQCZd8UII)what we are, but we don't have to be.”  _ Stiles smiles at each phone in the air, hoping it will bring his fans joy to be able to relive these moments. He’s finally able to believe that he can offer at least a moment of peace to fans again.  _ “I'm bad behavior but I do it in the best way.”  _

They’ve laid everything public, and Stiles’ fans have finally let go of their hostility. He’s happy that he can be honest,  _ completely  _ honest. 

_ “I'll be the watcher of the eternal flame. I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams.” _ Stiles comes across a group of kids in tye dye, surging with the music, in their own bubble like the only things that exist are their friends and the music. 

Stiles drops to his stomach and sings with them.  _ “I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass, glass, glass!”  _ Stiles reaches out at the girl frozen in shock, and taps her nose with a wink.  _ “I try to picture me without you but I can't.”  _

Stiles stumbles over the next line with a laugh as she screams. 

Her arms go stiff at her side, her mouth wide, and her eyes are crossed and staring at her nose in disbelief. 

Lydia and Isaac cover Stiles as he loses control of his laughter.  _ “'Cause we could be immortals, immortals.”  _

Stiles manages to quiet his giggles, and stands to head back up stage, slipping back into the song. _ “Just not for long, for long. And live with me forever now.”  _ He wraps his guitar back around his body.  _ “You pull the blackout curtains down.”  _ He wipes the sweat from his face, and looks at his friends.  _ “Just not for long, for long.” _

They smile at each other, all happy to have this back. They’re on stage for the first time in years without stress. They fought for this. They deserve this. 

_ “Sometimes the only payoff for having any faith, is when it's tested again and again everyday!”  _ They all throw a fist in the air.  _ “I'm still comparing your past to my future. It might be your wound but they're my sutures.”  _ Stiles pounds his chest twice with a fist.

He remembers writing this as a promise to his fans. To each one that would insist that he’d helped them at some point or another. He almost lost sight of the difference he could make. 

_ “I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass, glass, glass.”  _ Stiles holds the microphone out and listens to the deafening sound of a room full of people all enjoying a single moment together.

_ “I try to picture me without you but I can't.” _

Stiles jumps with the audience. “ _ 'Cause we could be immortals, immortals. Just not for long, for long.”  _

Isaac comes over to fling his hair in tandem. 

_ “And live with me forever now. You pull the blackout curtains down Just not for long, for long!” _

They finish the song, pushing everything they have, before playing  _ Dance Dance _ and closing the show with  _ 20 Dollar Nose Bleed  _ with  _ Were! at the Disco _ .

* * *

Derek gives Stiles a piggy back ride off the stage and walks them straight out the door and onto Stiles’ tour bus. Everyone else already made plans to go out, but Stiles is avoiding any possible triggers this soon out of rehab, and Derek is nothing if not supportive. 

Things may seem fine, but Stiles admit to Derek that he still misses the high, and alcohol will only make that itch unbearable. So they are now as sober as they can be. The only indulgence they partake in anymore is Nicotine, but they plan to quit after the tour ends and they can suffer the withdrawal in private. Derek is definitely  _ not _ looking forward to it.

However, Derek has been looking forward to a night alone with Stiles for days. All their friends have avoided drinking too as a sign of solidarity on the road, but Stiles finally got tired of the cockblocking and has insisted they go out tonight. 

“Sent.” Stiles says into Derek’s ear over his shoulder as they walk with security out to their bus. Stiles told everyone to make sure they had everything they’d need with them before the show ended, because they were locking the bus down as soon as the show was over. No one was getting in until the bus left in the morning. “Ain’t nobody gonna come a knockin.”

Derek can’t help a satisfied groan that erupts from deep within his chest.

Stiles licks a stripe up the side of his neck, and they can’t get on the bus fast enough.

Once secure in the bus, they strip off their sweaty clothes, and realize their skin feels just as gross. 

Derek looks up at Stiles with his shirt hanging from his hands, wishing for a hot shower. “Tell me again why we passed on the hotel tonight?”

“Because it would take forever to check in and shit.” Stiles answers, not even sparking a glance as he moves around the trailer.

Derek looks down at his chest where his hair is stuck in weird formations due to dried sweat. “But… a shower would have been nice.” Derek mumbles petulantly.

Stiles rolls his eyes and throws baby wipes at him. “You know the drill.”

Derek catches the wipes, but makes no move to clean himself. 

“You’re welcome to leave and find a hotel, but my ass is climbing onto that couch, and marathoning Star Wars with or without you.” Stiles eyes lock on Derek for only a moment, a flash of insecurity. Stiles will always worry that Derek might leave, and Derek hopes he can erase that fear in time.

Derek fights a smirk, and does as he’s told. As if he’d ever really give his night alone with Stiles up. They scrub down with the wipes, and then use a rag of body wash to actually feel fresh. They wash their hair over the kitchen sink with water bottles, and apply deodorant and body spray. 

Stiles walks up to Derek and lifts his arm. 

Derek leans in and takes a whiff of his boyfriend, like usual, to confirm his cleanliness. Then, unable to resist, he drags his nose down Stiles’ sternum. 

“Stop it!” Stiles jerks away, before slipping one of Derek’s clean shirts on, because Derek’s the only one with clean clothes at the moment. Like usual.

Derek doesn’t complain, his possessive side preening. 

While Derek finishes settling in for the night, Stiles makes popcorn, and grabs water bottles before heading to the back of the bus to settle in.

Derek finds him with the first disk already on its main menu, and Stiles waiting for Derek to join him on the couch. Derek slips under the blanket lifted beside Stiles, and he lifts his legs to rest on the bean bag in front of them. 

Stiles presses play, and Derek’s hand is already digging in the popcorn bowl between them. They aren’t even ten minutes into the movie when Stiles moves the bowl to his lap, and shifts to lean into Derek’s shoulder. 

Derek holds him close, his nose buried in his hair, and eats the popcorn offered to him. He feels a permanent grin on his face. A grin he’s been fighting since the hospital, since he and Stiles talked about everything. Since Stiles apologized for letting the lie go on for so long, and Derek apologizing for reacting the way he had and hurting Stiles.

Logically, Derek knows he’s crazy for trusting Stiles. Derek’s spent his life being manipulated by people as early as Kate, and as recently as Theo, but Stiles is different. Between their conversations, his experiences with Stiles since the tour started, and his dreams, Derek can’t imagine Stiles manipulating him. 

They’re finally happy, honest, and figuring out where this thing goes. Both of them are treating it like a new relationship, even though it’s anything but.

They make it through three of the movies, but Derek knows he dozed more than watched the third. Derek wakes hours later to the screen already having timed out, and Stiles’ drooling on his chest, he pulls the blanket up and settles in for the night in their private cocoon.

When silence settles in Derek’s mind tortures him with fear that he’s being manipulated, but then he looks at Stiles like this, and can’t imagine things going badly. Stiles will never manipulate him. He will never hurt him the way Kate did. And  _ no one _ could ever manipulate him as badly as Theo did. 

Derek buries his nose in Stiles’ hair and takes a deep breath to ground himself as his mind drifts over the memory of the last time he saw Theo. 

* * *

It was a week before trial, and Derek couldn’t resist any longer. He needed to talk to Theo. He needed to know why he did it. So he went to the jail house.

Derek sat in his designated space between the privacy partitions, and watched through reinforced glass as Theo made his way into the room. Derek expected hard eyes, the eyes of a criminal. Instead, when Theo’s eyes met his, he just looked broken, and… relieved?

Theo sat quickly and picked up the phone, leaning forward eagerly and bouncing his eyes between Derek and the handset on his side. 

Derek slowly picked it up, his stomach in knots. 

Theo pressed fingers to the glass, and let out a sigh. “I didn’t think you’d ever talk to me again.”

This gives Derek pause. The way Theo’s voice sighed over the words with relief. Like his relationship with him meant something.

“I’ve been praying for a chance to talk to you. To explain.”

“Then explain.” Derek says, not willing to respond with any emotion until his feet settle back on the ground. 

Theo nods, and takes a deep breath finally letting his fingers fall from the glass. “I promise I’m not as evil as everyone wants you to think.”

Derek stares blankly at him.

“I did set up Stiles suicide. I did that. I’ll never be able to take that back.” Theo says, his voice firm, but quiet. “But I didn’t have a choice.”

Derek’s lips part involuntarily, ready to argue.

“Kate forced me to work for her. If I didn’t do everything she wanted she was going to take my dad of life support.” Theo’s voice cracks at the end.

Derek blinks. “What? How would she even have that power.”

A rush of air pushes out of Theo’s chest as a sad sound of amusement. “The spouse automatically gets the power of attorney when you’re unable to make medical decisions for yourself.” Theo sighs. “Kate’s my stepmom.”

Unable to wrap his mind around Kate, Derek leads them a safer route. “What happened to your dad?”

Theo wipes at his eyes. “Car accident. Kate was driving.”

Derek’s heart stops. 

The words start gushing out of Theo full force, like a dam breaking free. “She made me apply for the job, and falsified references to ensure I was hired. At first it wasn’t so bad, she just wanted me to keep Stiles away from you, but she saw you guy start to get closer, and then she told me to distract you.” Theo scrubs at his eyes as they continue to betray him. “I wasn’t even gay…”

Someone shouts down the line, and Derek startles. When he looks back at Theo, his last words echo. “Wasn’t?”

Theo tries to hide a grin. “What can I say? You’re a pretty great guy, Derek. I started falling for you.”

“You’re lying. You don’t have to manipulate me to listen, the situation with your dad is enough to get my attention.” Derek wonders why he hasn’t heard about Kate’s relation to Theo, and fears that Stiles and his friends have been keeping this from him because they didn’t want Derek to side with Theo. Theo’s just a victim too.

Theo clears his throat. “I know, but… Derek, I want you to know that I did care about you. I still do. And I’m so sorry.”

Derek nods.

“Kate was never satisfied with our relationship. She wanted Stiles destroyed, but we couldn’t figure out how to make him self destruct, because seeing us together wasn’t enough. Then she noticed the bags under his eyes, and the hair, and just… she’d been his manager for a long time, and she knew from the pictures online that he’d started using again.” Theo stops, his throat convulsing over his guilt.

“She made encourage his addiction.” Derek guesses.

Theo nods. “She told me how to trigger him. The more intense his dependency on the drugs, the more he fought you. You two were miles apart, and Kate was satisfied watching Stiles destroy himself.”

Derek bites his lip hard enough, his mouth fills with blood. How could he ever fall in love with someone like Kate?

“Then you broke up with me.” Theo’s eyes flash to his lap, and his voice trails off. 

“And I started trying to get closer to Stiles.”

Theo nods.

“So she decided the only way to keep us apart were if he were dead.”

Theo nods again. “But Derek, she… she didn’t care who it was. She just wanted one of you dead. I begged her to spare you. You’ve already been through so much.”

Derek’s blood runs cold. “She wanted… me?”

“You’ve got a smaller profile, less of an investigation if you turned up dead. She’d have had a better chance of getting away with it. And she knew your death would destroy Stiles, so she’d get to live the rest of her life knowing Stiles would never be happy again, and that no one else would ever have you.” Theo puts his fingers back to the glass. “I’m the one who figured out how to make it look like a suicide. Because I couldn’t lose you.”

Suddenly, Derek wanted to wrap Theo in a hug and apologize for ever having cheated on Kate. If he’d have remained loyal he could have saved everyone a world of misery, and Theo’s dad never would have married her, and Theo wouldn’t be facing life in prison. 

Derek scoured his brain for a way to get Theo out of this, or at least some pardon. “Have you told your lawyer all of this?” 

Theo shakes his head. 

“You have to tell them!” 

Theo smiles. “I would if it were true.”

Derek blinks. “What?”

Theo leans back, his whole body relaxing, and his face hardening. “When Kate told me how easy you were to manipulate, I almost didn’t believe her. But now I know you’re even easier than she told me you were.”

Derek blinks, unable to find words. Hoping he was misunderstanding something.

“You know she even gave me drugs to make you more cooperative? So you’d be less likely to leave me. Or make you angrier so I could point you toward Stiles? I never even had to use them. You did it all on your own.” Theo laughs, looking Derek up and down. “Pathetic.”

“So your…” Derek whispers.

“My dad? The blackmail?” Theo asks, “I lied to you, Derek.” Theo leans forward on his elbows. “I never gave a shit about you. I was just trying to get a leg up in my career.”

Derek stands up, dropping the phone on the table. He wasn’t even going to give Theo the satisfaction of a response. He just turned around and walked away, and prayed that Stiles would never manipulate him the way Kate and Theo had because he couldn’t take this again.

* * *

Scott allows Stiles’ a break as he catches his breath after  [ _ The Mighty Fall _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=givzMxGKZps) and hypes the audience up even higher, while Stiles wipes away sweat, and chugs a bottle of water.

“Alright, let's get real for a minute.” Scott says. “This next song is about Kate and Stiles. We weren’t able to talk openly about our influences before, but who gives a fuck now, right?”

The crowd roars. 

“Beauty’s only skin deep, but we all go a little crazy sometimes.” Scott winks as he runs behind his drums to count them in. 

_ “S[he's an American beauty](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LGUnY6WFlws)!” _ Stiles sings with newfound energy.  _ “I'm an American psycho! She's an American beauty. I'm an American, I'm an American, American Psycho!”  _

Stiles grabs a bat from behind Scott and starts swinging it around, and points it at the audience.  _ “I'm an American, I'm an American I'm, I'm, I'm an American psycho!” _

Stiles sets his microphone in the stand, and places the bat at his crotch.  _ “I think I, I fell in love again.” _ He strokes the bat.  _ “Maybe I just took too much cough medicine. And I'm the best worst thing that hasn't happened to you yet! The best worst thing, whoa!” _

Stiles opens a water bottle.  _ “You take the full, full truth,”  _ He tips the bottle over the front row.  _ “Then you pour some out. You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out. And you can kill me, kill me or let God sort 'em out. And you can kill me, kill me or, whoa!” _

They let the audience repeat the chorus back to them, and Stiles runs all over the stage doing his best impression on a cross between Harley Quinn and a greaser.

_ “I wish I dreamt in the shape of your mouth. But it's your thread count I really care about. Stay up 'til the lights go out. Stay up, stay up.” _ Stiles pulls the same stunt with his water, but swings it at the first section throwing water all over the place.  _ “You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out. You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out. And as we're drifting off to sleep all those dirty thoughts of me, they were never yours to keep, keep, whoa.” _

Stiles jumps on a speaker with his fist in the air.  _ “Altar boys, altered boys! We're the things that love destroys!” _

Scott, Isaac, and Lydia cheer.  _ “I'm an American, I'm an American!” _

_ “You, me, us, them, We're just resurrection men!” _

_ “I'm an American, I'm an American!” _

_ “Us, we were only meant to make you live again!” _ Stiles closes his eyes.  _ “Us, we were pity sex, nothing more and nothing less.”  _

The audience pretty much takes over from that point forward, and a voice in the back of Stiles head tells him he shouldn’t get too comfortable.

* * *

Lydia, no longer gagged by the label, speaks her mind at every show. Tonight she spends minutes between songs talking about how their management controlled them, and they couldn’t wait to release new music that everyone would understand the meaning of. 

As they ready the stage for  _ Novocaine _ she explained how it was about the label, about how they’d been gagged. “So we hope that as you go back and listen to all of our music you’ll see the hidden meanings that become blatantly obvious with the light that’s been shone. Our label, our limitation with relationships, and all of our friends who also suffered at the hands of Kate fucking Argent.” She takes a breath. “But she can’t hinder us any longer!”

“Yeah!” Stiles cheers with a fist pump, the audience screaming on queue. 

“I see you.” She points at the audience, walking to the front of the stage, her hair bouncing behind her. “We see every single one of you. All of your beautiful faces. I see scars, I see pain, but you know what else I see?”

Stiles could listen to her all day. Lydia acts disinterested most of the time, but she’s observing. She saves everything, analyzes it, and fixes it with short statements. She’s Stiles’ hero.

“I see-” She drags her finger across the audience, pointing to every section. “War Paint. I see is on all of you. You’ve all fought your way through something to get here. We are survivors. Whenever you feel your strength waiver, look to whatever inspires you. Music, art, love, animals, family, friends. We are surrounded by beauty, all you have to do is look for it. Even in the darkest nights, the moon cannot hide.”

“Woo!” Stiles cheers again, from where he’s sat cross legged on the stage with his chin resting on his fists. “Preach!”

She rolls her eyes at him. “So the next time someone corrals your desires, you knock them the fuck down.”

Scott taps his drumsticks to count them in and they ready themselves quickly.

_ “T[his is a black](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Juxr9PIc2pE), black ski mask song. So put all of your anger on. In the truly gruesome do we trust! I will always land on you like a sucker punch.” _

Stiles walks his microphone stand over to stand by Isaac.  _ “Singing I am your worst, I am your worst nightmare. I am your worst, I am your worst nightmare.” _

Isaac leans against Stiles back, and Stiles holds his mic close as he falls backward to rest on him. _ “If you knew, knew what the bluebirds sang at you, you would never sing along! Cast them out cause this is our culture! These new flocks are nothing but vultures!” _

They begin flinging themselves against each other, Isaac pushing back into Stiles, then Stiles back into him with the beat of the song. _ “Because they took our love and they filled it up, Filled it up with Novocaine and now I’m just numb!” _

They pause as Stiles is stretched backwards over Isaac. Isaac stays in his crouch playing his bass, and Stiles holds a clenched fist to his side. _ “Now I’m just numb!” _

Stiles flings himself up, and tousles Isaac’s hair.  _ “And don't mind me, I’m just a son of a gun! So don’t stop, don’t stop until your heart goes numb! Now I’m just numb! I don’t feel a thing for you!” _

He thinks about how they’d allowed themselves to grow numb to their torment. They accepted defeat. He realizes that’s far too common. It’s how bullies win. At a small age we learn that if we’re outnumbered, or out matched, we should keep the peace, and learn to deal with it. By the time you grow up, you’re in the habit of admitting defeat. You either eat, or get eaten. 

_ “I’m just a problem that doesn’t want to be solved, so could you please hold your applause. Take this sideshow and all its freaks. And turn it into the silver screen dream.”  _

They gave up, and pretty much ended up doing exactly what the label wanted. Even Chris isn’t as innocent as he pretended to be. He allowed Kate to treat his clients the way she did, and would sympathize with each artist as they looked for help, but he never actually did anything. Chris didn’t really do  _ anything _ until his  _ Argent Records _ ’ name started getting dragged through the mud. 

He should have known not to fuck with Danny. Danny’s the key here. Danny will destroy them.

_ “Singing I am your worst, I am your worst nightmare.” _ Stiles sways with the crowd.  _ “I am your worst, I am your worst nightmare.”  _ They repeat the chorus, and Stiles gets the gut feeling that they aren’t completely out of the fight yet. 

_ “I said one day the valley's gonna swallow me whole.” _

Scott and Lydia chant back, pausing their playing. _ “Hijack the hype! Hijack the hype!” _

_ “And I feel like a photo that’s been overexposed.”  _

_ “Hijack the hype! Hijack the hype!” _

_ “They took-” _ Stiles starts then holds his mic out for the audience, and Scott, Isaac, and Lydia pause to listen. 

The crowd continues in the muted arena, clear as day.  _ “-our love and they filled it up! Filled it up with Novocaine and now I’m just numb!” _

Stiles pulls the mic back. _ “Now I’m just numb! And don't mind me, I’m just a son of a-” _

They continue without a missed beat.  _ “-gun! So don’t stop, don’t stop until your heart goes numb! Now I’m just numb!” _

Stiles sings with them and the others resume playing and the arena’s at full blast. _ “I don’t feel a thing for you!” _

After the music stops, and the lights go down, Stiles grabs his chest.  _ “We fucking love you guys. Thank you so much.” _

* * *

Derek’s watching the lights fly by outside the bus window in Stiles’ bunk, since he’s back to sleeping in the same bad as Stiles every night, and Stiles’ bunk just feels like home. His head is pillowed on Stiles’ chest, and he’s got his leg thrown over him to keep from falling out of the bunk. His arm is over Stiles and twisting the ends of his hair along his hairline, the soft strands lulling Derek to sleep. 

Derek’s knuckle keeps brushing against Stiles’ pillow. He hides a smile in a kiss to Stiles’ chest. He’s always found it funny how Stiles can’t sleep without his pillow. He can sleep anywhere, even strewn across chairs in a waiting room, but he can’t sleep longer than an hour without his pillow. 

Derek flicks the lumpy thing. “How old is this thing?”

Stiles makes a hum sound before putting it together in his current sleepy state. “You’re not going to make me choose between you and the pillow, are you?”

Derek lifts his head. “Would you pick it over me?” 

Stiles smirks, burying his head into his pillow. “It’s a  _ really  _ good pillow.”

Derek’s jaw drops, waiting for the sign of a joke. 

“But you’re kind of great too, so you might have to fight it for custody...you know, see who gets me on the weekends.” Stiles’ face remains serious, his eyes closed as the lights dance across his face from the highway. 

Derek bites Stiles’ nipple. 

Stiles immediately flinches, and Derek almost flies backwards out of the bunk, but Stiles catches him, and helps him keep his purchase. “I was fucking with you. Jesus.” They both laugh as they settle back into the bed comfortably. 

Derek traces the line of hair leading to Stiles’ underwear. 

“Of course I’d choose you.” Stiles says quietly, before lifting his voice to break the heavy moment. “But be prepared to be my pillow. You will be permanently on call for all naps, and you must lie still as long as I want.”

Derek laughs, kissing Stiles’ chest. “I wasn’t going to make you get rid of it, I just asked how old it was.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything. At all. Not even a breath comes out of him. 

Derek lifts his head, wondering what’s wrong, and he finds Stiles’ head twisted into the pillow with his nose buried, and a the corner of a smile peeking out at Derek. 

Finally he speaks. “If this thing could talk… the first story would be…”

Derek squints trying to understand what significance this conversation is holding for Stiles when a possibility occurs to him. “Did you have this back when we were together?”

Stiles smiles and turns his head back to face the top of the bunk, his eyes still closed. “Yup.” He takes a deep breath, and twists his head to kiss the top of Derek’s head. “It was yours.”

Derek blinks, and after his heart catches up, the butterflies are set free in his abdomen. Stiles can scream his love every night on stage, and sure Derek believes it, and he’s touched, but things like this? These small things like the leather jacket, the pillow, the documentaries, and the screwdrivers? The ways Stiles held onto Derek for no other reason than his own comfort, those cut Derek deep and he can’t deny Stiles loves him.

Stiles doesn’t say anything else, he just remains completely lax below Derek, with his right arm curled around Derek’s back and playing with the hair at the base of his neck. They talk like this all the time now, they just say these things without fear. They will never lie to each other again. They know how messy that gets. 

Derek lifts as much as the bunk will allow, climbs over Stiles, and kisses him deeply. 

Stiles arches into him on instinct, and lets Derek control it. He’s just there for the taking. Stiles holds his hips, thumbs pressing harder by the second as their heart rates speed up. 

Derek pulls the slightest distance from Stiles’ mouth, and bumps their noses. 

Stiles smiles. “I love you, too.”

Derek dives back in. He could kiss him forever and need for nothing.

* * *

When Derek officially wakes up for the day, Stiles is gone with the rest of his band for an interview, so Derek takes the opportunity to clean up their bus, and send some laundry to be done. 

While he’s waiting for everyone to get back, he gets a youtube notification from  _ Fallout Shelter’s _ official YouTube channel. It’s a new music video. Derek remembers Stiles mentioning it in passing, and telling Derek to keep in mind that he wrote the song long ago, and they filmed it even before he started using drugs again. 

Derek can’t help but worry what could require that kind of warning, but he assumes it just means that Stiles was still pining, and he doesn’t want Derek to think he’s not happier now.

Derek settles into their bunk and clicks the notification to take him to the video

The video starts with a view outside a car driving along the coast as the sun sets.  _ “[Do you do,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DRBKIrhZMjg) do you remember when we drove, we drove, drove through the night. And we danced, we danced to Rancid, and we danced, we danced.”  _

The video transitions to the inside of a neon bar, smoke filling the room of empty tables, then goes back to the shot on the beach, but the camera remains at a different angle. The camera resides in the right back seat, and it can see the beach through the windows beyond Stiles in the driver’s seat of what appears to be a jeep.

_ “And I confessed, confessed to you riding shotgun, underneath the purple skies, and we danced, we danced with windows down, and we danced, we danced.”  _ Stiles smiles at the passenger that is yet to be seen. And Derek imagines it’s implied that it’s him.

The video goes back to the bar, but it shows Scott at the bar stocking the shelves, then travels to Isaac letting chairs down. 

A collage of images, and lights alternating between deep purples, and bright yellows flood the screen.  _ “Spin for you like your favorite records used to…Spin for you like your favorite records used to…” _

The video goes back to the beach, but Stiles is getting out of the car, and smiling across the hood as he takes off his shoes on the empty beach. Then just before the clip cuts short you see a dark hairline at the corner of the screen, and Derek realizes Stiles used a double. It’s not implied after all.

_ “You were the song stuck in my head. Every song that I’ve ever loved. Played again and again and again. And you can get what you want but it’s never enough.” _

Back in the bar, the tables are half full, and waitresses are delivering drinks in delicate outfits. 

Stiles enters through the front, by passing the line and throwing out a cigarette. Isaac lets him in with a wave, and Stiles smiles at the patrons as he makes his way to the bar. 

Scott pushes a tray with a cluster of shots and a clear tumbler. Stiles shoots all the shots, and carries the tumbler through the crowd toward the stage. 

_ “And I spin for you like your favorite records used to… And I spin for you like your favorite records used to.” _

Back on the beach, Stiles and his lover lie in the sand, Stiles’ back to the mystery man’s chest, and they face the water as the sun finally sets. _ “And I can’t, I can’t, I can’t remember. Just how to forget, forget the way that we danced, we danced, to Danzig, and we danced, we danced.”  _ There’s a close up of mouths, a breath apart, the corners turned up in a grin.

Back in the bar, Stiles pushes open a door separating the smokey, purple room, and enters a brightly lit hallway. Stiles follows it to a dressing room to find Lydia in front of a vanity mirror already doing her makeup.

They greet each other with smiles, but as soon as Stiles sits down and Lydia’s not looking Stiles’ smile fades.  _ “And when you ask, you ask me how I’m doing like you know, you know how much better off I am.” _

Isaac and Scott argue over the bar, flinging hands at the back room. 

Lydia checks her phone and shoots off an SOS.  _ “And when we danced, we danced, with windows down, and we danced, we danced.” _

Water splashes around Stiles and Derek’s double as they play in the water, the Jeep’s headlights barely lighting their forms. _ “Spin for you like your favorite records used to… Spin for you like your favorite records used to…” _

Stiles brushes himself off and climbs on stage, and for the first time you see a pole at the head of the stage. 

_ “You were the song stuck in my head,”  _ Stiles drags his feet down the stage, pulling his shirt off, and only remaining in black boxer briefs.  _ “Every song that I’ve ever loved. Played again and again and again.” _

Scott and Isaac exchange looks, and shrug.

Stiles starts spinning slowly around the pole, his feet walking a slow circle, and slung out by his arm.  _ “And you can get what you want but it’s never enough.” _ Stiles’ eyes look glazed, and half lidded. _ “And I spin for you like your favorite records used to.” _

Stiles hops onto the pole in a fast spin, his thighs holding the bar. _ “And I spin for you like your favorite records used to.”  _ Stiles flings himself around faster than Derek can watch and then he’s holding onto the bar with only his thighs, but his feet are pointing straight toward the ceiling, and his head hangs toward the floor. His arms hang to his side in an upside down cross. His body continues to spin around the pole.

_ “I spin, I spin, I spin, I spin for you, for you, for you, for you, for yeah…” _

The screen briefly flashes between Stiles spinning, and the beach. 

When Stiles’ spin slows to a stop he drops, leaves his tips on stage, and exits. He smiles at Lydia as he downs his tumblr of clear liquid. He throws on some clothes and exits through the back door with a cigarette. The night dark and damp.  _ “Spin for you like your favorite records used to, used to, to, to… Spin for you like your favorite records used to, used to, to, to…” _

Then he climbs into a faded version of the jeep in the video and the passenger seat is empty.

* * *

Derek understands why Stiles warned him. Now Stiles just needs to come home so Derek can compliment him on his video and reassure him that there’s nothing wrong.

But he doesn’t get the chance because as soon as Stiles and Scott climb onto the bus, he notices that Scott looks pissed, but Stiles throws his hands in the air in a fit of humor. “Kate’s suing us for slander.”

Allison and Lydia follow shortly behind them, sarcasm thick in their voices. 

Stiles grabs a water bottle and walks up to Derek with an easy smile. He pulls Derek in without force, by a finger at his collar. 

Derek follows easily and lays a chaste kiss to his lips. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Stiles smiles, his nose flaring as his eyes trace Derek’s features. 

Derek licks the water off his lips that had transferred from Stiles’, and settles on the front sofa for the full story.

Stiles sits beside him with his phone, swiping through emails, until the others settle as well.

Allison sits on the floor with Scott cross legged and starts. “To catch you up, Derek. We were served papers this morning, stating that Kate is suing us for the damage to her reputation that will cause her loss of income.”

Derek nods, it makes sense, but they don’t owe Kate anything. “Will it stand?”

“No, if anything it’ll take a fraction of the amount due to all of us, but it’ll look like couch change in comparison to what she owes us.”

Stiles swallows his water quickly, grunting “But we’re not in this for money.”

Lydia rolls her eyes like this is a common reminder. 

Allison smiles. “Of course not, we want her to be put away for a long time for her crimes.”

Stiles looks at his lap nodding. 

Derek reaches over and runs a thumb over one of the scars hidden below his shirt sleeve. Their eyes meet and Stiles takes a breath. Derek lifts Stiles’ legs and pulls them to drape over his lap. He pulls Stiles close, wraps his arm around his back, and Stiles lets his head rest on Derek’s shoulder. Derek’s left hand gather’s Stiles’ hands on his lap, and creates a protective circle around his wrists. 

Stiles melts into him, and releases a deep breath as Derek kisses his forehead. 

Words unsaid, but their actions speaking volumes. 

* * *

During sound check Scott starts playing a new drum line, and after a few repetitions Stiles finds himself humming while he collects water from backstage and snatches a cheese cube from Derek’s plate. 

Isaac finds a complementary base line, and Lydia works her magic too. This isn’t anything new, sometimes they like to just pluck randomly at their instruments and see what comes of it. It’s like when someone sits and makes weird noises, you’re just playing with sounds.

Stiles grabs his guitar and sits down with his back to the arena, and finishes the circle of his friends. They all play, following each other’s leads with less and less hiccups, until they’re all smiling at the strange little mind baby they just made.

Scott hits his drums hard.  _ “[I got rage everyday! ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0uhEictEW_c)On the inside. The only thing I do is sit around and kill time.” _

They play their sounds over and over, letting words come to whoever it may. They can piece it all together later, and toss out things they don’t want. Or not even keep it at all. 

Isaac sings, his eyes focussed on his fingers. _ “I’m just young enough to still believe, still believe. But young enough not to know what to believe in.” _

Stiles echos, just as Derek joins with his own guitar playing a rif and looking at Stiles for approval. “ _ Young enough not to know what to believe in, yeah!”  _ Stiles gives Derek a thumbs up, and he comes to sit next to him. 

As they all keep playing like nothing happened, Stiles leans over to insist yet again that Derek isn’t bad at writing music. “Stop worrying so much. Have you heard some of the shit I’ve recorded?”

Derek rolls his eyes.

Stiles closes his eyes, and listens to the repeating measures, and slips into a trance. He thinks about the last ten years of his life, and how they landed him here, with the scars on his wrists, fame, and the love of his life sharing his passion with him. 

Stiles shouts, feeling the song,  _ “If I can live through this! If I can live through this? If I can live through this, I can do anything!” _

Everyone repeats it over and over again, all of them feeling the same for one reason or another. They’ve all fought their battles these years. 

_ “Champion.”  _ Stiles hums,  _ “Champion.” _

Lydia meets his eyes and repeats it back, then everyone else does. 

_ “I can do anything!” _ Stiles screams.  _ “If I can live through this! If I can live through this? If I can live through this, I can do anything!” _

It takes twenty more minutes before they’re exhausted. Derek and Stiles are sprawled backwards on the stage starfish style, breathing hard. They only sat there, but they screamed loud enough, they’re sure the waiting crowd outside got a glimpse of what’s sure to be a chart topper, if Derek has anything to say about it. 

He looks over at Stiles’ flushed face, and sees a new man. A strong, self assured, finally at peace, man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter!   
> p.s. it gon be super fluffy


End file.
